The Prince's Secret
by InMyArmsAgain
Summary: Severus thought his world would end with the war, but someone had other plans. Now the wounded warrior must carry on with what fate has dealt him. And out of tragedy and unspeakable pain, he finds hope in the most unexpected blessing. Hidden in the shadows of Hogwarts' halls, Severus finds what he always longed for, and he must fight to keep it. Mpreg! SS/OFC Full warnings inside
1. Prologue (Severus)

_**Hello readers! Let me just take a moment to say what a relief it is to finally be posting this new story. I have been working on it for quite a few years now, my personal remedy for the great Post-Potter Depression of 2011. However, I have only just gotten up the courage to put it out there for you guys to see. For all my time spent thinking, writing, and rewriting, I hope it was worth it.**_

_**Warnings**_

_**1. MPREG! I repeat, mpreg! It is not traditional in that said male character is comfortably heterosexual (see hetero mpreg on AO3), but it is still mpreg all the same. If you object, please don't read.**_

_**2. Rape/Non-con! I know from personal experience that this is a pressure point, and I certainly don't wish to upset anyone. You have been warned.**_

_**3. AU, i.e. known dead canon characters are alive and well, selectively chosen for plot purposes. I know it's not that big of a deal, but it thought it was worth mentioning.**_

_**4. Original characters! Chief among them is an OFC that is at the story's center. She and all of my little creations were an obscene amount of work, so please be gentle. If you don't like OCs in general, then I highly recommend that you don't read this.**_

_**I really hope you all enjoy what I have written. It has been such a labor of love for an aspiring writer, and I hope its as entertaining to some of you as it has been for me.**_

_**Disclaimer:**__**The world and characters of Harry Potter belong to the great and incomparable J.K. Rowling. I own absolutely nothing except for my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

_He remembered that night. He remembered that dark figure. He remembered that sinister – no – evil voice._

_He called him clever, and he called him faithful. But there was no feeling behind it, as if there ever was. And there was no other option to be found. His plan had to be fulfilled, and they all played their part. But to his master, it made no difference as to what would transpire. And he himself knew it would come to this._

_But why did it have to be like this?_

_He remembered the constricting ties of the master's pet circling around his body. He remembered the intense, unexpected, undeniable fear. The fear of the end. The voice explained once again there would be no escape from this, that his purpose was to be a sacrificial lamb to conquer Dark magic. For all his loyal duties, he was still nothing. _

_And then came that last, hissing command._

_He remembered the pain. In all his wretched existence, he had never felt such an excruciating, choking, burning agony. He couldn't stop the horrific scream that escaped his throat. The snake didn't even flinch._

_Then it let go._

_He remembered the blood; the feeling of crimson life flowing freely out of him. He felt the gruesome wound to his neck. He saw the red spatters everywhere. He felt his strength drain like water._

_He remembered falling to the floor; the cold, unforgiving floor. Yet, he remembered the warmth, that of the pool of a violently fading life. He vaguely remembered thinking that he saw someone in the darkness. And as he walked away from his dying servant, he remembered the Dark Lord's cold, unremorseful final words to him._

_He regretted it. Regret…there was no regret, only madness._

_He remembered Potter suddenly appearing. But no matter what the young wizard thought he could do, he knew it was over. He knew this was the end. And now, in this dying moment, only one thing mattered. _

_He remembered grabbing Potter, and he forced out the words that were his last command. He let his memories of her go; for the sake of their fight, and for the world, the boy had to know the truth. He held on with what little strength he had left. He held on with the last strength he had to offer. He begged for one last look, and Potter obeyed._

_Lily's eyes…he just had to see them one last time._

_That was it. He could let go now. Now, he could die._

_He didn't remember going limp. All he remembered was the fade to black._

_There was no great white light. There was no stairway to Heaven. There was only darkness. All he could see was the faintest of light in the distance. There were voices all around him. Some he recognized, others he did not. But everywhere, there were whispers. And all of them seemed to be pushing him to the light. As he got closer, ghostly faces faintly emerged from the black. But as he drew even closer, a figure began to appear from nothing. And suddenly, there before him…was Lily._

_Lily…his beautiful Lily! Where she had been stunning in life, she was now rightfully angelic. There were no flaws in her porcelain skin, and dark red hair softly floated around her bare shoulders. White draped over her delicate form. Her stunning emerald green eyes sparkled like stars as she smiled. But then, she slowly shook her head. _

"_No Severus," she said, her gentle, melodic voice taking on a soft echo. "This is not the end for you."_

"_He killed me, Lily," he softly pleaded. "He killed me, just as he killed you."_

"_Oh no, Severus. It won't end like this."_

"_What?"_

"_Your life will not end like this. You are meant to go on."_

"_Wha…what do mean?"_

"_You are meant to live your life out after these dark days. Severus, you have the chance to get everything you wanted. You can finally get what you truly deserve."_

'Oh, you have no idea,'_ He thought to himself, if he could even still think at all._

"_Go back to them, Severus," Lily cooed. "I know it may not seem it, but there is love left for you. Go back, and be happy."_

"_But Lily, I…you…how can I go back when you cannot?"_

"_It was just my time. My life was meant to end sixteen years ago. And I accept that, knowing that my boy still lives because I laid down my life for him. It was meant to be, so they say. And you, you are meant for more."_

"_But I cannot leave you behind again, Lily…my friend…my…"_

"_You will always have our memories, no matter what happened between us. I have watched you these long years; I have seen everything you have done for Harry. Take comfort, I will be watching out for you. And you know that I will always live in my son."_

_In the distance, a vaguely recognizable voice was shouting, as though frantically. "Oh Merlin! He's still alive!"_

"_But barely!" another joined in._

"_Come on, you stubborn old bastard! Don't you dare die on us!"_

"_Go back to them," said Lily. "Go back...be happy." She began to fade from sight. "Oh, and tell Harry that James and I love him."_

_And with that, all went black and silent._

_He remembered his eyes being forced open. The world was all blurry and out of focus. He heard panicked voices all around him. Wait…some of those voices sounded familiar. Now he could vaguely make out the form of Poppy Pomfrey hovering over him, along with a number of faceless no-ones. He could hear the frantic voices of children somewhere nearby. Where the hell was he? _

"_Hold on, hold on...he's back! He's back!" he heard one of them say._

"_Sir! We've got him!" he heard Poppy shout. Who was she talking to?_

"_Oh thank Merlin!" a voice came. "I thought we lost him."_

"_But he's still unstable!" Poppy came again. "We have to work fast! We can't let him slip away again."_

_They all sounded astonished. Even he himself was shocked and astounded by the same fact that had them all frantic._

_He was alive._

**~HP~**

Severus Snape's eyes shot open. He slowly sat up in bed. He looked around the room and saw that he was in the bedroom of his small home on Spinner's End. A light sweat glazed over his forehead. He had been plagued by that dream for quite some time now, each time just as disturbing as the last. He had relived that dark and violent night in May over and over again on at least a weekly basis, every detail still fresh in his jaded memory. And each time, when he woke up like this, he could think of nothing but the same thing.

He still lived. He came back from the very brink of death. He didn't know how. He didn't know what had really happened to him, but something saved him. For lack of a better word, it was a miracle. But Severus also remembered everything that happened after the point where he woke up, and some of it made him wish that he had died.

_**~Flashback~**_

Once he had returned to consciousness, Severus realized that he was no longer in the Shrieking Shack. It was too bright, and there were too many voices for that famously small space. At the time however, he could not have cared less.

He was correct in his fuzzy identification of Poppy Pomfrey. But he couldn't recognize the other two male figures above him. Together, the three of them were racing around him with different instruments, tools, and bottles.

"Alright, we've got him!" one of the two wizards shouted to Poppy.

"Quick, the potion!" she shouted back.

A bottle was forced into his mouth, and he recognized the taste of the extremely powerful Life-rejuvenating Potion. He felt a tingling sensation move all through his body before euphoria. He suddenly felt the air come painfully rushing back into his lungs.

"He's breathing!"

"Severus, say something!" All he could get out was a weak, almost gutted moan.

"That's good enough!" the second anonymous man shouted. "We need to give him the Blood-replenishing Potion."

"We can't!" Poppy rushed. "We have to heal that wound as much as we can. Then we have to flush out the snake's poison before it worsens the bleeding."

"Will you be able to do that?" another voice, a younger female voice, asked.

"Oh, we'll be able to," a man said. "But it's not going to be easy, and it certainly won't be pleasant."

"And we have to work fast!" Poppy clucked angrily. "He's already lost so much blood! It's a wonder that he's even breathing!"

Severus felt an awful pressure and pain as their gloved hands pushed and pressed against the gruesome gash in his neck. His ferocious healers seemed to have no clue that he could actually feel what they were trying to do, and his inability to scream was worse than torture. Once the wound was crudely, yet effectively patched up, another bottle was forced into his mouth. But this potion, unknown to the struggling Potions master, burned all the way down his throat, possibly one of the most unpleasant brews Severus ever had the misfortune to swallow.

"Will that potion stop the venom's effects? Will it help the wound heal?" The young female voice once again asked, almost a squeak.

"Yes dear, it will work to flush the poison out of his blood and reverse its effects," Poppy explained in a stern voice. "But this antidote is _extremely _powerful! So powerful, his body will eventually reject it. But only after it has done its job." She turned to her companions. "We need to turn him on his side!"

Severus felt two sets of strong hands get under his body and tilt him over onto his right side, holding him in place. While it was true that his mind was not at its full working capacity, he should have known what all of this meant. What had he just swallowed, how was his body going to reject it, and how much more painful would it be? He however did not have to wait very long, and he got his answer when the burning of the potion that flowed through his veins suddenly rushed back to his stomach.

It had been a long time since Severus had last vomited. He couldn't remember exactly how long it had been. It could have easily been years! However long it was, it was long enough for Severus to forget just how horrible it was. The sickening nausea, the harsh burning in his throat, and the violent trembling throughout his body. None of it he could control. Oh, the lack of control! It had always bothered Severus so much in the past, and even while fighting for his life, it still bothered him.

What was he doing pondering his situation?!

As his stomach continued to revolt, gasping for air between retches, Severus felt a firm, yet comforting hand grasp his shoulder. "Oh dear, this is the worst part. Easy does it, we've got you." Alright, that voice was definitely familiar.

The retching became dry heaves and Severus was laid back onto his back. Then one last potion was forced down his throat. This he recognized as the strongest Blood-rejuvenating Potion available to wizard kind. He must be at St. Mungo's. That was the only place in Britain where that potion would be readily at hand.

The world slowly came back into focus and Severus finally got a look at his surroundings. He was somewhat shocked to see that he was not at St. Mungo's. He was lying on a bed in the partially destroyed hospital wing at Hogwarts. Just outside of the screen that surrounded his bed, Severus could hear the sounds of frantic voices and children crying. A bright ray of sunlight shined through the huge windows. How long had he been there?

Poppy stood to the left of his bed, gently wiping his forehead with a moist cloth. She was careful to avoid his sensitive neck. Severus glanced to his right. The two men who had also fought so hard to revive him turned out to be two of the finest Mediwizards that St. Mungo's had to offer, both Flooed in to assist with those injured in the great battle. They were watching him intently as they tossed aside the bloodstained cloths that they held. Once they saw that he was stable, they sighed with relief and nodded to Poppy. Then they walked out through the screen to help the numerous Mediwitches tend to the children.

Severus felt that there was a presence standing just to his right side, but he couldn't gather up the strength to look up. Instead, he let his head sink into the pillow as his eyes shut. He heard Poppy speak. "He needs to rest now. We can move him into one of the private rooms. He should be away from the children for now."

"Oh yes, of course. After all that, the poor boy deserves to get some peace and quiet."

And with that, Severus fell into such a deep sleep that one would have thought that someone had slipped him the Draught of the Living Dead.

When Severus opened his eyes again, there was far less light than there had been before. He slowly looked around. He saw that he was now in one of the smaller private rooms at the far end of the hospital wing. He looked to the window and saw that a moonless night had fallen. The darkness in the room was broken by an oil lamp on the night stand and a few solitary candles. He was propped up by several pillows and his head rested comfortably. His body ached atrociously and he still felt a bit sick from the various potions that had been poured down his throat. He felt the bandages that had now been properly dressed to his wounded neck. It still hurt to breathe. He let out a soft moan.

"Oh Severus! Thank goodness, you're awake! You gave us quite a scare before. We thought we lost you for a moment there. But oh, my boy! You're still with us, such a happy miracle!"

Severus struggled to turn his head to his right in the direction of the voice. It was the same gentle voice that had conversed with Poppy before. He felt a hand gently brush stray locks of hair away from his face. Even though his vision was still glazed over and blurry, Severus didn't doubt for even a moment about who it was, especially when his exhausted gaze caught sight of a snow white beard and an oh-too-familiar pair of half-moon glasses.

"A…Albus" he managed to whisper.

"Shhh…"Severus felt a warm hand caress his face. "Just rest, my dear boy. It's alright, Severus. It's all over now. Lord Voldemort is dead. The war is over, you are safe now. You can rest peacefully. Everything will be better now…I promise you."

_**~End Flashback~**_

Still shaken up, Severus slowly got out of bed and made his way down the stairs. It was unbearably hot that summer night and he was in desperate need of water. Carefully stepping through his pitch black sitting room, he found the door to his kitchen and pushed it open. Flipping the light switch on, he opened up a cabinet, not even bothering with a Summoning Charm to easily find what he was looking for. He fumbled around for a moment before finally grabbing hold of the glass that he knew was back there. Sighing to himself, Severus filled the glass with water and sat down at the table. Again, he sighed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

It had been nearly four months since that night in May, and what Dumbledore – quite alive – had said was true. The war was over. The unstoppable evil that was Lord Voldemort had finally been defeated by Harry Potter, just as it was meant to be. The Boy-who-lived, now very much a man, would go down in history. He was forever to be known by all wizard kind for not only surviving the Dark Lord's deadly curse not once but twice, but for finally bringing him down once and for all. To Severus, the very idea of Potter's lasting fame was just sickening. But what made it worse was the nauseating truth that if it hadn't been for Potter, he wouldn't be there now. If the boy hadn't been there in the Shrieking Shack, no one would have known that Severus was even there, let alone nearly dead on the floor. No one would have come to collect his lifeless body only to realize that he was still alive.

He would have died that night if it hadn't been for Harry bloody Potter.

'_Oh well,'_ Severus thought. He had saved the boy enough times over the last eight or so years. He could call himself and the brat even. When he had mentioned this to Dumbledore after he had recovered enough from his injuries, the thought-dead headmaster agreed with a rather hearty chuckle.

Dumbledore…promised him…promised him indeed. If the old headmaster had really meant that, then Severus was still waiting for his promise to be fulfilled.

It wasn't just the horrendous pain and atrocious sickness that followed his return to consciousness that made Severus wish he had died. Dumbledore had said that everything would be easier and more peaceful. But his life in the weeks following the Dark Lord's defeat was anything but peaceful.

**~HP~**

Severus was confined to the hospital wing for several weeks after the great battle. He didn't even have the strength to get out of bed for a full week and a half. And that was followed by another three weeks of being fussed over by a harried Madam Pomfrey and a meddling Dumbledore. It was almost June by the time the Mediwitch deemed him healed up enough to return to Spinner's End for some much needed time alone.

Unfortunately for Severus, that wasn't about to happen.

No more than two days after he returned home, the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived on his doorstep along with two Aurors. In his hand was a warrant for his immediate arrest on charges of treason against the Ministry and murder.

Why did Dumbledore have to remain in hiding?! After all, Severus _did not_ actually kill him! All Severus really was was the key role in the play that was an incredibly thought out and painfully detailed plan of Dumbledore's that only he knew even the slightest thing about. Severus could have been spared the charges if Dumbledore would just show his face. He could get him out of this mess and everyone could leave him the hell alone, which was really all that Severus really wanted.

He was immediately taken to Azkaban to await trial.

Never had Severus known any place so close to hell. He could now completely understand the tales of madness that came out that place. How could you keep your mind in these conditions?

He was confined to his dark, dank cell for all hours of the day. These hours were spent keeping his back to the door, listening to the endless hours of the taunting and the insults echoing from down the corridors. Obviously, nearly all the inmates had known what he had done and why he was there. And apparently, they were not going to let Snape just sit there and wait for his trial. Realizing that many of these voices belonged to people he had encountered before, he had a few choice words of his own for them. But Severus could not let himself sink to that level, not if he wanted to keep the last shreds of dignity that he had. With Death Eaters and accomplices being brought in every day, Severus had to be the one prisoner that kept himself together. Besides, it wasn't like Severus was incapable of staying silent for hours at a time.

Severus was only incarcerated for a week, but it might as well have been a lifetime. It didn't matter that the dark shadows of the Dementors had since gone for good, just being there was torture. But of all the things that could have been used against him, of all the things that could have sped up his eventual decent into madness, it was being forced to listen to the screaming. It came from every corner, crack, nook and cranny of the fortress. Hundreds of years of pain, suffering, and insanity. The wailings and screeching, ranging from cries for help to just nonsense, added a terrifying chill to the already heavy atmosphere. The whole damn place reeked of death. Severus even found himself feeling as though someone's life had abruptly ended in his own cell. Was that really where you ended up after a while? Did being imprisoned become so unbearable that the only solution was suicide?

For the first time since he had been arrested, Severus began to panic about the possibility of spending the rest of his life in the wizard prison. If he had bled to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, at least it would have been with honor. And Lily had said that he was supposed to live out the rest of his life. Severus seriously doubted that she meant it to be in prison.

Death Eater trials began almost instantly after the war ended, and to Severus, it was all clock work. They were rounded up, tried, and sentenced usually within a week. But the disturbing thing that Severus began to realize was that far too few of these trials ended in a conclusion of innocence. Nearly all the people who were suspected to having any connections with Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters were sentenced to time in Azkaban, some shorter than others. And Severus didn't even think it was necessary to try the Death Eaters themselves. They did everything that the world accused them of, and they made no secret about it. These people were terrorists and they were proud of it. In many opinions, these trials were just reconfirmations of past confessions. Some people were saying that the scars that they all now bore on their left arms should be an automatic life sentence. But true to nature, the Ministry did not take this suggestion and went through with the pointless trials to give all fair justice. But this didn't exactly make Severus feel any better about his own situation. It seemed that the term "fair trial" was a very loose term in the Ministry. After all, these were the same people who at one time listened to Cornelius Fudge and the tyrannical monster that was Dolores Umbridge. Somehow, he had a feeling that more than a few people had been waiting for an opportunity to lock him up for life.

It was a stormy day in June when Severus was transported to London to attend his hearing. This being one of, if not the most high profile case of the bunch, Severus was heavily guarded by the same Aurors that had arrested him. The Ministry was also strangely quiet that particular morning. He was led to the Department of Mysteries in silence. He could hear muffled conversation as he entered the Wizengamot Chamber. But as soon as he was within the court's view, it died down. He was magically bound to his chair as he sat down, and he looked up at his peers.

For the next half hour, Severus was asked a series of questions by the court officials and the Minister of Magic himself, ranging from what he had done in years past to his actions during the war. But more than anything, he was interrogated about what drove him to kill Albus Dumbledore. Was is by order of You-know-who or was it premeditated? And if it was premeditated, what did the former professor have against the old man? Severus tried to answer all the questions as best he could, but he still couldn't tell them what he really knew. He couldn't say that Dumbledore was alive and well and hiding in Scotland, not while he was still under oath to protect that secret. As time went by, Severus's fears slowly became a reality. He realized that with every question, every answer, he was fighting a losing battle. As far as the court was concerned, not only was he a cold-blooded killer, but he was also a convicted Death Eater getting his long awaited justice. Severus felt his heart sink into his stomach when Shacklebolt addressed the court, ready to take an immediate, unanimous vote.

Naturally, _that's _when Dumbledore decided it was time to come out of hiding, suddenly bursting into the hearing to save Severus's arse like he had done for Potter before him. Of course, having all thought that the headmaster was dead, every single witch and wizard of the Wizengamot was utterly speechless. Incoherent mumbling filled the room, though that rather quickly grew into a mass of unhindered profanities from people who looked like they had never heard such words in their lives. Oh, Shacklebolt's was the best!

"But…but…but I was at your funeral!"

Dumbledore proceeded to ramble on for quite a long while, telling his entire story and his entire plan on behalf of Severus. The Wizengamot, Minister included, listened so intently that it was as though there wasn't a convicted Death Eater in the room. There wasn't one person in that chamber who didn't believe a minute or a word of what was going on. Albus Dumbledore was alive! He was standing before them all! And what was even more amazing was this absolutely brilliant plan of his. It made complete sense to everyone that his death would be a tool to bring down the Dark lord by giving him false security. And it worked!

Suddenly, everything that Snape had done fell into place. But still, they wanted to hear what Snape had to say about this. Was this the truth, or was this some elaborate illusion concocted beforehand? It was then that Shacklebolt called for Veritasserum. A tiny phial filled with a rather potent form of the truth serum was brought forward and Severus didn't fight anything as the potion was poured down his throat. Once the potion had taken effect, he turned back to Minister Shacklebolt.

He answered each question with a short yes or now. With each reply, the story further unfurled in the openness of the chamber. And not once did he hold back, never slipping into the protection Occlumency offered. Slowly but surely, the evident truth was reaffirmed.

During his final interrogation, the whole of the chamber held their collective breath as Dumbledore watched. What they had was a confession, a confession of innocence. Under the most powerful Veritasserum, they confirmed the tall tale Dumbledore had spun for them. It all made perfect sense! The man did everything under orders, under Dumbledore's orders. And in the end, it was all for the better. They couldn't send him back to Azkaban with such solid evidence in his favor.

Severus, also stunned and speechless, could only sit and watch as the committee voted and all the charges against him, however reluctantly, were dropped. He was free.

Severus had the foolish thought that he could be left alone now that he wasn't going back to prison. _Oh no!_ Not after the _Daily Prophet_ (not to mention every other publication in the British Wizarding community) got wind of Albus's return from the dead. His face was suddenly everywhere. Everyone was talking about him, retelling his story. Some may have actually forgotten about Potter for a split second. But what truly bothered Severus was that people were suddenly searching for him too. Once his name was mentioned in the _Prophet's_ interview with Dumbledore, everyonewanted to know what he had to say. The Death Eater trials were covered enough already, his being one of the most talked about. But to some, he was now a war hero.

Thank Merlin that Dumbledore made a plea to the public for Severus's complete privacy following such a trying time in his life. The reasoning was that even though Severus had such a major part in Voldemort's defeat, it was at _great personal cost! _The man had nearly died, for crying out loud! The elderly headmaster voiced his concerns about the younger wizard saying that he felt that Severus had every right to be left alone after his years-long ordeal. A time may come when Severus felt that he was ready to tell his story, and until then, the media should try their best to not be the media.

Severus did notice that the people seemed to heed Dumbledore's advice. Reporters and letters disappeared after a few days. In fact, it was rather entertaining for Severus to pull his arm chair up to the tiny front window of his house and just watch the few stragglers still trying to get a story being dragged off by their more sensible colleagues. Dumbledore was right to say that there might come a point in Severus's life when he would talk. But that day wasn't going to come for a very long time. He was glad that by July, people generally weren't as interested in him anymore. Most of them were off chasing Potter again. He did still get the occasional owl from Luna Lovegood asking if he was interested in an exclusive interview with the _Quibbler_, all of which he politely refused. It was now late August and up to that very night in his kitchen, Severus had never publically spoken about his life and involvement with the war. And for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

**~HP~**

After he set the now empty glass down in the sink and shut the lights off, Severus made his way back up the stairs to his shadow filled bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, he collapsed back down onto the bed. Even though the bedside clock showed that it was three thirty in the morning, Severus just couldn't fall back to sleep. There was just too much on his mind. The sad part about it was this was to be the third time that week that he had woken in the early hours and would just lie there until dawn.

Desperately trying to prevent this again, Severus tried to put all thought out of his head. He couldn't let his mind wander to Dumbledore, to that night in May…to Lily. Oh Lily! He could not let his mind dwell on her face, her voice, her eyes. Not again. Severus rolled over onto his side and shut his eyes. What seemed like an eternity passed before he finally succumbed to sleep again, hoping to fall into a dream that he wouldn't mull over in the morning. What he got was a dream that was not just disturbing to him, it was horrifying! This was not a dream to him, it was a nightmare.

**~HP~**

_Diagon Alley had always seemed more pleasant at night. The darkness was broken by only a few candle lamps at each door. The noise was replaced by the gentle hooting of owls. And a person had the freedom to walk the streets without pushing their way through people and packages. _

_Severus had always preferred to visit Diagon Alley at night. It gave him the opportunity to get things done without the stares of annoying bystanders, many of whom he had actually taught by now. This was only enhanced in the weeks following Lord Voldemort's defeat and the days since his Ministry pardon. In fact, it was almost impossible for him to venture out in public without a whole mess of people glancing over their shoulder. At night, the only people he had to deal with were the shopkeepers, and that only involved the bare minimum of interaction._

_On this particular night, Severus had ventured out much later than he would have preferred. It was early August, and Severus wanted to avoid the rush of people that he knew would dominate the alley during the day. He had a peculiar feeling that those crowds would linger into the twilight hours. Severus had never liked people in the past, and regardless of what he had been through, he certainly wasn't going to start now. All he wanted was to just go about his business without passing a single venomous stare or hearing an echoing insult on the wind. Even if the end of the war had brought him high regard, there were still many beliefs that could not be broken, and Severus liked to avoid it when he could. The cover of darkness was perfect._

_Tucking his shrunken packages into his pocket, Severus made his way up the street. The lights in nearly all the shops were now out and there wasn't a trace of human life around. Severus reveled in this bliss before he would arrive at the empty Leaky Cauldron and its unguarded fireplace. But just as he passed the dark, eerie archway that led down into Knockturn Alley, his steps slowed until he came to an untimely stop. He turned and looked down the dark street. He had been struck by a strong, but not unfamiliar sensation. _

_He felt like he was being watched. He also had a feeling that whomever it was, they were lurking somewhere in the inky blackness of the descending street that led into the world of Dark magic. All he could see was darkness, broken only by a few dim lanterns that hung outside doors. Like its sister street, Knockturn Alley was silent and devoid of life. But even if it appeared that he was alone, Severus just couldn't ignore his own intuition. He was too used to the feeling of danger. He hadn't felt this way since Voldemort was alive. And experience told Severus that such feelings could not be ignored. He turned to back away._

_He heard something move behind him. But before he could reach into his robes for his waiting wand, Severus heard a sickening crack. An intense, throbbing pain consumed his head. He felt sick. He felt dizzy. The world went fuzzy. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was the weight of his own body hitting the cobblestones with a heavy '_thud_'._

_When Severus came to, it took a long moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His head was throbbing with pain, but he managed to lift it up off the filthy ground to get a glimpse of his surroundings. Brick walls surrounded him on three sides. A narrow street separated him and yet another wall. The lantern that hung from it held nothing more than a smoking stump, the waxy remains of what used to be a candle. Somewhere, he could hear the screeching howl of a cat. The air was close. _

_He was down Knockturn Alley, very far down._

_Severus looked down at his hands and saw that they were covered in scrapes and cuts, which stung with every breath that reached them. He realized that the same sting was also coming from the sides of his face. Someone had dragged him down there, but where the hell were they? As he struggled to get up, he instinctively reached for his wand. But to his shock, all he could feel was the course fabric of his robes._

"_Looking for this?" A voice came from behind him. Before Severus could turn around, he saw his wand fall onto the stone before him with a light 'clink'. He crawled forward, reaching for it. He was mere millimeters away; he could almost feel it at his fingertips. But before he could grasp it, out of nowhere, a heavy boot stomped down onto his hand. He felt stabbing pain as he heard bones break under the tremendous force. A hand came down and picked up Severus's wand. It was then that Severus looked up._

_His attacker was clad in long dark robes. The length of his clothes stopped mid-calf, exposing the black boots that were currently crushing Severus's hand. His closely cut sleeves reached his wrists and on his hands were leather gloves. The hood of his cloak was up over his head, concealing his face. He fingered the pilfered wand in a slow, yet poised manner. _

"_What…who…" _

"Silencio!_" the shrouded wizard hissed. _

_Severus tried to protest, but realized with quiet horror that he now couldn't speak. Panicking, he grasped his throat with his free hand. He tried to move back, but he was still pinned down by unrelenting pressure of the other man's foot. His heel dug into pale skin. Trying to growl even though nothing came out of his mouth, Severus managed to pull his hand free. His assailant lashed out and kicked him in the face. The pain was quick and sharp. Severus finally forced himself to his feet and faced his opponent. He didn't care that his hand was pulsating and his nose was probably broken. This guy meant business and Snape wasn't going to take it lying down. He stared down with the man, his bloody nose adding a sort of strength to his death glare. He tasted his own blood as it ran down his lips. The other man cocked his head under his hood, and he slowly walked toward Severus. Severus just waited. He might have been wand-less, but he wasn't defenseless_

_Once the dark wizard was within reach, aiming Severus's wand at its owner, Severus swung his injured hand and socked him square in the jaw. The pain from the hit was enough to make him heave, but he swallowed hard when he saw that his wand had gone flying again. His attacker briefly stunned, Severus made a mad dash for his wand, which was lying in the street. He could fight back, he thought, but this was obviously a planned attack, and he had no way of knowing what this assailant was ready to do. Not bothering to stow away his wand, Severus turned to run down the street. His were driving him back up to Diagon, where at least there could be witnesses to this unprovoked violence. He had to get out of there before…_

*Bam*

_He fell to the ground, face first. His legs had locked together mid-stride. Severus looked back to the alley and saw that the hooded man now wielded his own wand. Another flick and Severus felt himself being dragged backwards. His panic increased as he watched his surroundings being closed in by brick walls once again. The wizard swung his wand violently. Severus was thrown against the wall with incredible force. He felt as though some invisible hands were dangling him by his neck. His legs flailed and breathing was difficult. But still no noise came from his mouth. He couldn't cry out for help. Yes, he admitted that he needed help. As clever as Severus was, he could not overpower this man._

_The wizard's wand fell to his side, with Severus falling to his knees along with it. He casually tucked his wand into his belt, but he was by no means finished. Without a word or even sighing – in fact, his crooked mouth almost looked giddy under the cloak – he clenched his fists and just went to town on Severus. This man could have been taken for a Muggle boxer by the force and strength of the punches and hits that were pounding into Severus's face, head, and neck. Severus fell forward, his assailant stepping to the side. Once he was back down on the ground, those heavy boots went to work on Severus's stomach and chest. His breath was stolen away with each blow. He felt ribs crack and he was sure that he had internal bleeding. The beatings ceased and Severus coughed as he fought to breathe again. He looked up at the dark wizard and raised his wand to attack back._

"Expelliarmus!_" _

_Severus's wand flew from his reach, hit the wall, fell to the ground, and rolled into the street. Severus watched the black boots walk around him until they came to a stop some five feet from his head. "Now to take care of you…" Did he mean to say that he hadn't already? He took hold of his wand again and upon pointing it at Severus, the latter's arms were magically bound behind his back, as though invisible ropes were restraining him. His agony-filled face looked up at the hood and saw a vicious sneer. _

"_Oh, you poor dear!" the dark figure taunted from beneath his shroud. "It can't hurt that badly. Come now, a wizard such as yourself, former servant of the Dark lord…oh wait. You never were his servant, were you?" Severus tasted his boot again. "Despicable! One of the Dark lord's most loyal Death Eaters and you turn out to be Dumbledore's spy. In the same boat as Harry fucking Potter! A war hero! You just make me sick…bloody traitor." He pointed his wand. "_Crucio!_"_

_The worst pain and anguish yet engulfed Severus's whole body. No matter how many times you fell victim to the Unforgivable Curse, you could never stand the torment. Severus twitched and shook, powerful surges of magic coursing through him like thousands of volts of electricity, burning his insides and crushing his bones to dust. Inside his head, Severus was screaming, just dying to be heard. _

_The wizard released his hold on Severus, letting his wand hand ease back to his side. But his grip on the dark wood didn't let up. Remarkably, considering that he still didn't have any use of his arms or legs, Severus managed to roll onto his back. He gasped as he was finally able to breathe. He was brought back down to earth by a hard jab in the side. A swish and flick, and Severus was back on his stomach. _

"_It's all your fault, you know," the cloaked man whispered. "Everything that Lord Voldemort worked for will never be so…all because of you. Think about it, Snape! A world where pure wizards reigned supreme. Half-bloods would fall down before us, and Mud-bloods would cease to exist. Muggles would know of our world and fear it, powerless when faced with our superiority. The Dark Lord would have gone down as the most powerful being to ever walk the earth. His Death Eaters would have been gods among mortals! We could have had it all! And you betray us!"_

'The Dark Lord was a madman and you know it,'_ Severus's inner voice cried out. _'He cursed us as often as he did anyone else.'

_The dark wizard continued. "What? Did it all get to be too much for you? Did the coward run to Dumbledore for protection?" Severus wriggled on the ground at the mention of the word 'coward'. The man sneered in such a vial and evil little way that it made Severus's skin crawl. "And to think; all those years ago, you were the one who tipped off the Dark Lord about Potter's prophesy. You end up helping the damn brat! How many times you could have killed him, and you were protecting him! The Dark Lord spoke of you like you were his most loyal servant. You were giving that old codger ideas, weren't you? The Dark Lord's demise could have been more of your doing than Potter's."_

_Severus watched as the boots slowly walked around him, towards his feet, until they were out of his view. The low, dangerous voice continued its threatening rant. "The world could have been changed for the better, if not for you. Lord Voldemort could have revolutionized the Wizarding community, and he was destroyed before his plan could be seen for what it was. If you ask me, it wasn't because of Potter. It was because of you. _Crucio!_" _

_It was several excruciatingly long minutes before the bone-racking torture let up and the hissing voice went on still. "If you hadn't been helping Dumbledore, Potter, and their band of simpleton twats, we would have succeeded. Potter didn't stand a chance without the information that you so graciously fed to him. Severus Snape the war hero is nothing more than a slithering, back-stabbing coward. Scum off the bottom of my boot!" _

"_You know that you deserve all of this. A crime such as yours is worthy of extreme punishment. So if no one else will, then I will have to do it myself. I could kill you, you know, and I probably should. But I have far too much to lose to risk a lifetime in Azkaban. However, that doesn't mean that I can't give you a hell you've never known." _

_There was the swishing sound of a wand on the air. Severus braced himself for another bout of Cruciatus. But instead, he heard what sounded like cloth ripping and then felt an incredibly disturbing draft. His robes had been pushed away and his trousers had been torn off. Behind him, he heard further rustling of clothing. Exposed and breathless with panic, Severus looked behind him and saw that his attacker had gone to work on his own garments. He had already unbuckled his belt and opened his outer robe. Severus watched with wide, horrified eyes as he undid his trousers. Even in the shadows, his manhood was still absurdly visible and, not to mention, aroused. Severus fought fiercely against his magical restraints, not giving into the thought of being paralyzed by his fear…yes, fear. Severus wasn't naive. He knew what this guy was intending to do to him. At the moment, it could have been enough to drive him into madness._

_He felt the shrouded man's knee on his back, pinning him down. A strong hand gripped the back of his head and slammed it down onto the ground. Severus prayed that he didn't lose any teeth on that one. The other wizard put all of his weight onto Severus, solidifying that he wasn't going anywhere until he was through with him. "I hope you realize that you have left me with no other choice," he growled, positioning his other hand on Severus's lower back to support himself. "Let's just say that I'm the only one of us to see this as a suitable price to pay. But believe me, Snape. You're getting what you had coming to you, you useless bastard!" _

_He impaled Severus with incredible force. The sheer strength and the intense pain that came with it stole Severus's breath away. Desperate gasps escaped with every athletic thrust of his deranged attacker. He clenched his fists with enough strength to draw blood. To his shame, despite his ordeal, Severus felt the sting of tears forming in his eyes, burning his skin as they ran down his face onto the cold stone ground. If he had been able to make a sound, his rapist might have been able to enjoy hearing his racking sobs. _

_On and on and on this torture went. More than once, the thought that this would never end raced through Severus's head. The only thing that made it worse was listening to the aggravated grunting of that psychotic monster. Occasionally, such as with a particularly strong force, Severus's head would be yanked up by his hair and slammed back down. Again and again and again for what felt like hours. _

_Finally, the still shrouded man pulled out and got to his feet. Fixing his trousers and seeing to his robes, he sneered under his hood. "Hmm, maybe you're not as useless as I thought," he said with malicious mockery. Severus's bloodshot eyes looked up at the wicked smile that was still visible under that hood. The dark wizard tidied himself a bit before he pulled out his wand again._

"Finite Incantatem!_"_

_Severus felt his suddenly clothed legs unlock and his hands fell to the ground. He groaned, discovering that his voice box was functioning again. He brought his hands up towards his head, glancing at the bleeding gashes he had inflicted on himself. His face contorted; his entire body ached. This pain was just unnatural. The air was rank with the smell of the fresh blood that dribbled across the cobblestones. And just to add insult to injury, quite literally, his assailant hawked and spat at Severus's tearstained face. _

"_You had best watch your back, Snape." This was said with a very distinct snarl. He hurled one last violent kick at Severus's face. "Enjoy your glory…while it lasts." And with that, the black leather boots walked out of the alley and the black figure disappeared into the shadows. Severus listened to the clicking of heels and the swishing of robes until they disappeared into the silence. _

**~HP~**

Severus was nearly blinded by sunlight as he sat up in bed in a cold sweat. He gasped for air, fighting against the knot in his throat. Shivers ran up and down his spine and he shook despite the heat of the morning. Just the images flashing through his mind were enough to make him feel nauseous. It was rare for him to be so disturbed by a single memory that he would work himself into somewhat of a panic attack. He pressed both hands against his face and over his eyes. He could not let himself lose his composure, not again. But within minutes, Severus gave up on his own battle of wills. Why should he care if he cried in his own home? He was alone.

Three weeks…three weeks it had been since Severus had been violated so brutally. And like many rape victims before him, it was impossible for that whole incident to transpire without having a drastic effect on Severus. It was easier thinking back on the battle in May than on that night. At least he could tolerate that dream-time de-ja-vu. It was almost hard for Severus himself to believe how unnerved he was. But still, of all the things that Lord Voldemort had forced him to endure for all those years, nothing compared to that one sickening deed. Never had he been mistreated in such an unspeakable way.

The assault only made daily life harder. It started with the pain. The act was excruciating in itself. And Severus didn't exactly help his injured body by eventually picking himself off the ground, limping all the way back up and out of Knockturn Alley, nearly collapsing upon arrival at the Leaky Cauldron, and then actually collapsing after stumbling through Dumbledore's office fireplace at Hogwarts. While he had been able to get quick and effective aid from the headmaster and Poppy Pomfrey, the pain still continued for quite some time afterward. For days, his entire body ached for all it was worth. But whether this was actual recovery pain or just chronic aches that Severus's mind created was anyone's guess. Even when that was over with, a dull soreness remained where the horrendous bruises would surely form. And if that wasn't bad enough in itself, the headaches and the nausea they caused certainly helped it along.

Then there was the isolation. In the long weeks since the rape, burdened by anxiety and disgrace, Severus had only left his house three times. If the jaded wizard hated venturing into public before, that was nothing compared to now. Now, he could barely stand the thought. There were too many prying eyes, a chance for something like that to happen again. If there was one psychopath with the gall to do that, who was to say that there wasn't another? If you had to ask Severus, which was the willing task of one Albus Dumbledore, it was safer for the time being to stay held up at home. The only times he did take that risk and go out into the world (albeit the Muggle world) was when his situation was rather dire. After all, a man has to eat. But this had been his post-war life; hours and hours he wasted on the painful memory of his attack, thinking about it over and over with no one there to snap him out of it.

Because of this, one of the worst things for Severus was the dreadful fight within himself that plagued his mind each day. It was a good idea to keep himself away from the world. Then, at least, the world wouldn't be able to see him in such an emotional turmoil. He had put on a brave face for folks like Dumbledore and Pomfrey. Alright, he had put on an annoyed face for them. But they didn't know the half of it.

Could there have been a more emasculating experience? Could there have been something to make him feel worse? It was unbelievable. Thirty-eight years of unfortunate events and pitiful circumstances had left him with enough reason for self-hating woe. And one outlandish attack had outdone it all. Severus had never felt lower than in his self-imposed solitude. He was unbearably humiliated; it was as though he was at the hands of James Potter once again. But at least Potter wasn't so inbred to think of something like using sex as a weapon. He was angry; not at his attacker, but at himself. He should have been able to stop him. He should have been able to defend himself, and he ended up bound on the ground with no trousers. For God's sake, why didn't he put up more of a fight? Several of the bruises Severus bore on his knuckles were his own doing, as was the fist-sized dent in the wall.

But above all else, there was the utter shame. It was the shame that kept him away from the world. It was the shame that created the lie about what happened that night, that he had been beaten to a bloody mess and nothing more. And it was the shame that brought such misery every time Severus looked into a mirror. Time and time again, Severus couldn't help but wonder if this dark wizard was right. Did he truly deserve what he got? Was he really so worthless that this man would think of doing that to him? Even if he had spoken to someone of the assault, nothing would have been able to change Severus's mind. He had hit rock bottom in his lifelong self-loathing. He had turned away letters from Dumbledore inviting him to quiet tea. He couldn't comprehend the idea of facing the old headmaster and his ability to see that you bore a heavy heart. Dumbledore already knew way more about him than Severus would have liked. Who knew how he would look at the Potions master after hearing that. Severus couldn't even look at himself without a hard knot forming in his throat, especially when he caught sight of those bruises on his arms, legs, and lower body. Even though it was August, Severus had kept himself covered up for his own sake. If he could ever describe himself as a martyr these days, it was when he was forced to look himself over when he bathed.

If he really had seen Lily that night in May, and if she had truly meant that his life was worth living, surely she didn't mean a life like this.

**~HP~**

Severus was very slow to get out of bed that morning. In fact, it was nearly midmorning by the time Severus did haul himself to his feet. But this was only after he had calmed himself down. Not to mention that he had sweated himself into a puddle and was in rather desperate need of a shower. He slowly walked down the hall from his bedroom to the tiny bathroom, stripping off his damp clothes once the door was closed. Severus then spent a good half hour in the shower, which was really more for dunking his head under the cool water than for actual hygiene. He emerged in a gray dressing gown, cooled off and refreshed. He decided to bypass dressing for now, instead choosing to head downstairs.

The sun poured in through the windows of the little house in a way that was only possible in the morning. The outside world was also quiet, aside from the persistent chirping of the sparrows and magpies. Severus took pleasure in the relative silence. After such a rough night, all he wanted was a calm, relaxing day. Who knew? Maybe tonight would be the same.

He put on a kettle of water for tea, careful to avoid the burner that had stopped working long before. Breakfast this morning would be simple; just a few pieces of toast with a bit of butter. He had only taken a few bites when there was a rattling tap at his kitchen window. He pulled back the shades to see an owl with his copy of the _Prophet_ in the windowsill. He pushed open the window, grabbing the rolled up parchment and tossing out the owl's payment. The bird was quick to fly off again. Severus chose not to unroll the newspaper until he had finished eating and poured his tea. He carried the cup and paper into his sitting room, and he settled down into his chair in front of the fireplace.

It was another slow news day at the _Daily Prophet. _The summer had been filled with reports of arrests and convictions of witches and wizards with some connection to the Dark Lord; stories of who was who and just how long they would be in Azkaban. It was now going on ten days without a capture. It was rather funny because Severus could come up with a list of people that hadn't been caught yet. But they too would be uncovered in time, if the _Prophet's _reports that the Ministry had increased Auror security were true. Nowadays, the news mostly concerned the rebuilding of the Wizarding world. It was little stories of shops reopening, heroes returning to their families, quickie marriages, and growing prosperity. On that particular morning, it was cover to cover with articles relating to the youth. With September fast approaching, families were venturing out as they always had, causing an economic explosion in Diagon Alley. _Prophet _writers seemed to go on and on, page after page, claiming that they had a new Renaissance on their hands. Let Harry Potter lead the way!

Severus tossed the paper aside, annoyed and frustrated. Like he really needed to read about how lovely other people's lives were. Once he had gotten past the embarrassment of being saved by the little sod, Potter also had been amongst the furthest from his mind, and Severus had every intention of keeping it that way. Talk about Dumbledore knowing more than Severus would like. Potter knew _way too much. _And it took Severus a while to stop kicking himself because that was _his _fault. All in all, Severus didn't let this get to him too much. He didn't need any more stress. He tried to rid himself of the tension in his head as he relaxed into his chair and carefully sipped his tea.

He had let his eyes wander around the room when something caught his eye. It sat on a small table by the front window. Setting his cup down, Severus got up and walked over. He looked down at what so quickly got his attention, and then cautiously picked it up. It was a letter from Dumbledore, the only one he hadn't set fire to. And yet, Severus didn't regret it, even though this letter had been the cause of much confusion and stress in the past several weeks. And even there, long after he first received it, Severus couldn't help but reread it again with the last scraps of doubt that his soul could offer.

_Severus,_

_I say, it has been a shame that I have not had the chance to speak to you, face to face, in quite some time. How have you been fairing? I speak for plenty of others when I say that I hope you have been well._

_I understand why you would wish to keep yourself away. These reporters have been absolutely dreadful. I question if they have forgotten the meaning of the word "privacy." I do apologize for the trouble the media attention has caused you. You, especially, could have done well without that nonsense. I also feel just awful for those editorials about you. It's appalling to think that people would still question your loyalty, even after I come to your defense. If only they knew the full story of what you have been through. However, I'm not beyond hope of changing their minds. You know that I don't like to boast about my influence, but I find that it can be quite handy in times like this. I'm sure that you have been reading the _Prophet_. They say we could be on our way to a golden age. Well, I say that if we are, we should be able to start anew. We should do what we can to return to a sense of normalcy, and then live out the rest of our lives in our various forms of happiness. My dear boy, I'm no different, and neither are you._

_Severus, I have a proposition for you…_

**~HP~**

_**Kind and constructive reviews are more than welcome and greatly appreciated. Much more to come.**_


	2. A new life begins here

**_Hey folks, here's the story's true beginning. I hope you enjoy_**

**_Disclaimer: The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names._**

**~HP~**

Harry Potter quietly made his way through King's Cross Station. Pushing the trolley that carried his trunk, he carefully weaved through the crowds, trying his best not to attract the attention of passing Muggles. His pace was slow, walking nearly half the speed he had gotten used to in years past. His eyes were also heavy as he waited for that espresso to kick in. The young man, with his unruly hair and lethargic demeanor, stuck out like a sore thumb among the droves of jittery, overly-caffeinated commuters. It was rather annoying to be this tired, on this morning of all mornings. Then again, that is what you get for sitting up half the night. But really, how could he sleep with what was on his mind, day or night?

He never thought that he would have a reason to return to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters until that day when he would see his own children off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And yet here he was. And just as he had been for the last seven years, he was glad to be there, elated even. There was nothing in the world that could change that, especially considering the circumstances.

Lord Voldemort was dead; dead, gone, never to return. Harry was to be forever known as the boy who defeated You-know-who, the savior of the Wizarding world. Now, all the Wizarding world had to do was start over. Pick up where it was forced to leave off. In fact, it was that very thing that brought Harry to the train station that day. Upon the request of many, Professor Albus Dumbledore, backed up by other influential wizards, decided that Hogwarts would have its first, and hopefully only, repeat year. Students would return and repeat the year they had reached when the war fully erupted. Dumbledore stated that this decision came about to ensure that the children got what they deserved out of their education. It was a chance to get back to what they were really there for, and for the Seventh years, it was a chance to walk away with a positive experience.

Harry could not have been more grateful for that. After all, it was only a year ago that he and his friends thought that they would never return to Hogwarts Castle as students. Hell, at some points, they didn't think that they would live long enough to regret not going back. Harry couldn't decide what was more of a miracle, that he was going back to school, or that he and his friends all made it through the last year.

When Harry reached the platform that led to the magical gateway, he started to get an extra step in his stride as his morning coffee finally took effect. The eyes behind his glasses began to dart around the area. The Muggles around him carried on with their day, dashing for their morning trains with a briefcase in one hand and a half-eaten croissant in the other, blissfully unaware of the juicy secret just behind the walls. Harry spied the gateway. Taking one last look around the station, he gripped the handle of the trolley and dashed right through the wall. He came to a slow, graceful stop on the other side.

The platform was teeming with people, just as it always used to be. Many of them were parents seeing off many of the younger children as they boarded the train. Familiar faces jumped out every so often. Unlike the muggle station, Harry's presence did not go unnoticed. His name echoed across the platform and some First and Second years rushed up to him seeking autographs. But as he dropped off his trunk to be packed away and got on board, a somber fact slowly became clearer. The train was crowded, but not as crowded as it had been. In light of all too recent events, some had made the difficult decision not to return to Hogwarts. A range of reasons was to blame, whether it was a personal loss or the mere fact that they just weren't ready. Even though some of these people would return in time, it still cast a shadow over the minds of those who had gathered there on that morning. After all, there were other missing faces that they would never see again.

As he walked down the aisle way, looking into compartments as he went, Harry was again stopped by everyone from young attention seekers to old acquaintances offering a friendly greeting. Handshakes and pats on the back seemed to come out of nowhere as hands reached out of compartment doors. Harry took it all with a quick nod and a humble smile. He did not dislike this newfound interest in him; he expected it after all. And even though he would never admit it in even the most polite company, he _was _a bit more deserving this time around as he actually _did something_ that even the most naive Muggle would call heroic. But still, there was nothing that could change the modest quality in Harry's character. Celebrity and idol status were nice, but he would still carry himself the way he always had. He would be damned if he let his fame go to his head.

Harry walked up nearly the entire length of the train until he found Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger in their own compartment, waiting for him. Hermione was leaning up against Ron, who had his arm wrapped around her body. Every so often, they would gaze into each other's eyes in a way that Harry could only describe as disgustingly romantic. He knew it was still rather early in their romantic relationship, so there was going to be that first long phase of having no ability to keep their hands off each other. But the truth be told, Harry still wasn't used to the sight. He didn't have a problem with the idea of it all, not one bit. But the sight was a bit odd. It was his two best friends…together…in love even! It was just weird! It was almost as though a small part of him yearned for the days when this was a secret.

'_Ah well, at least they're happy,' _he silently told himself for the hundredth time. As he sat down across from his two friends, Hermione leaned up to plant a generous kiss on Ron's cheek.

"Hey guys, please!" Harry protested. "I understand you're into each other and all, but please try to tone it down a bit. I see enough at home."

"And you don't think that it bothers me to watch my best mate snog my sister?" Ron inquired as Hermione pulled away again.

"At least Ginny and I try not to snog in your general area. If you happen to walk in on us, that's your own fault."

Ron looked at Hermione, but she shook her head at him. "Don't look at me, I agree with Harry on that one." She eased out of Ron's arms and settled down next to him. "We're sorry, Harry. I understand if it's annoying to see couples when Ginny is still back at home."

Harry sighed as he shook his head, more to himself than anyone else. Hermione was referring to the fact that Ginny Weasley was one of the students who had decided not to return. Following the loss of her brother Fred, she had concluded that she had been through enough and wanted to spend a year away from school. She wanted to give herself time with herself. She had even agreed to help a dejected George run his joke shop. While this idea was not a very popular idea amongst her large and opinionated family, Ginny had to put her foot down. And besides, this was only temporary. She would finish school, just not in the coming year. As she put it in a very long and detailed letter to Percy, a year off from school was not going to end her chances of a successful life.

Of course, Harry wasn't exactly thrilled when she told him. After all, he had only just gotten her back after weeks apart. Frankly, it was the last thing he wanted to hear after those long days of wondering if he would ever see her again. Not to mention that it hadn't been any easier for Ginny to stomach the idea of being apart from him again. But Harry felt deep in his gut that they would make it work. It took him a long time to realize his feelings for Ginny, and he wasn't about to give up on her. He just had to get used to the whole idea of not having her by his side. Now, if only everyone else on earth would stop bringing it up.

Harry took it upon himself to change the subject, but he didn't really have an idea of what to talk about. Lucky for him, Ron and Hermione had offered him an apologetic silence. An idea came to him. "It's still a bit funny that the three of us are sitting here now, isn't it?"

Hermione and Ron nodded. "I have to admit," Ron's eyes wandered to the window as he spoke. "When we said that we weren't going back, I thought that it was final."

"Well you never had much reason to think otherwise," Hermione pointed out. "I was going to go back eventually. I didn't think it would be this soon."

"Right, and who would have guessed that they would just start last year over again?" said Harry.

"Perhaps life can go back to normal for us."

Harry had to raise his eyebrows at Hermione's comment. "You really think so?" he questioned.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I do. Think about it, things could have been a lot worse."

"Yeah, Dumbledore really could have been dead," said Ron.

They all remembered the day when in a grand shock and surprise, Dumbledore appeared before the Ministry of Magic very much alive. He announced that his death had merely been a meticulously staged plan of his own making, and that he had been aiding those on the side of light in complete secrecy. Now that He-who-must-not-be-named had been defeated, it was the right time to come out of hiding. Harry in particular was stunned. Once he picked himself up off the floor after the initial shock, it took him a good two days to believe what he was hearing. But once he saw Dumbledore's face in the _Daily Prophet _and heard his voice on the Wizarding wireless, there were no words to describe Harry's happiness.

"I see what you mean, Ron," Harry thought for a moment. "I guess if that can't bring us all a sense of normalcy, nothing will." He let his green eyes roll as his lips tugged into a smile. "I know I've probably said this before, but we're really lucky to be here."

"You have said that before, like twenty or thirty times." Ron shook his head, as though he were suppressing a laugh.

"And yet we agree with you every time." Hermione smiled as she tucked her head underneath Ron's chin. "We might be a bunch of 'trauma cases', but we're a blessed bunch of trauma cases." Both Harry and Ron looked at her with strikingly similar arched eyebrows. "What? I like to think that things happen for a reason."

The boys had to muffle their laughter at the amount of cheeky sentiment in that statement. "Really Hermione?" Harry said with a smirk. "But I see what you mean, I guess. Who knows, maybe the three of us can finally have a nice, quiet year at Hogwarts."

"Pardon," a voice came from the compartment door. "Sorry to interrupt, but everywhere else is full."

Before Harry could look up, Hermione's face broke out in a bright grin. That's when he looked to the door and saw a tall girl with long, red hair and the faintest trace of freckles. Though already dressed in the pressed white shirt and gray skirt that made up the base of a Hogwarts uniform, she leaned casually against the compartment doorway, not weighed down by the patchwork handbag that hung off her shoulder.

Her name was Rosella Beckett. However, everyone who knew her called her Rose, as it wasn't exactly easy to live in modern Britain with a name like Rosella. To many, she looked as though she could have been some distant cousin of the Weasleys, something that frequently brought about laughter. After all, the Weasleys were not the only wizards with ginger hair.

She was another Seventh year Gryffindor who was returning to Hogwarts to complete her final year. While she had been friendly with the Golden Trio since their early years, it was under the umbrella of maturity that they found their common ground. Hermione especially enjoyed Rose's company, spending more time with her than with other girls their age.

Rose wasn't really one of those friends that the Trio saw much of outside of school. She lived in a small village some distance outside of Greater London that was a tad bit out of their way. If they saw her at all, it was in Diagon Alley or other Magic establishments. She was also frequently alone; they had heard quite a bit about her parents, but had never met them. But still, whenever she was around, Rose was a pretty cool person to hang out with. To borrow a phrase Harry once heard from Hagrid, she was just another one of the good old Gryffindors.

"I hope you don't mind," Rose continued, cracking a smile.

"Ah Rose, you don't have to ask," said Harry. Ron got up and sat down next to Harry in order to let Rose sit next to Hermione. As she relaxed into the seat, setting her handbag down next to her, Rose said "I really hope you three don't mind if I follow you around a bit this term."

"Aw, of course not," said Ron, causing Hermione to smile proudly at her boyfriend. "You're not as much a bother as other people here." Hermione's smile disappeared as she looked at Rose.

"He is right," said Rose, matter-of-factly. "I passed a bunch of Slytherins on my way back here, and really, I don't think they've changed much. They're already at it with talking about people behind their backs."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You would think that after last year, some of them would lighten up a bit."

"All in good time, I guess," Rose shrugged. "It was a bunch of Third years anyway. They weren't in much of a place to be affected. It's not like they were on the front lines of that battle."

"The way we were?" asked Harry. Rose was quiet for a moment before she said, "Yes, and you're one to talk."

Hermione leaned up against the seat, cracking her knuckles as she did so. "Oh, you have got to ignore them. They should realize how lucky they are to have the chance to finish school. I'm sure you heard us talking about that."

"I did," Rose nodded in agreement. "I couldn't have put it any better."

The compartment was filled with four satisfied sighs before a stretch of silence. Harry leaned back into the cushions as Hermione tucked herself into the corner of her seat to look out of the window. Rose also kicked up her feet and crossed her legs. Ron sat forward, getting his companions' attention.

"I just thought of something. I heard the most ludicrous thing this morning. You know, about Hogwarts."

"Oh, do tell," said Rose, leaning in closer. In spite of her opinions of bothersome Slytherins, she was always up for a little gossip.

"I heard that Dumbledore is bringing Snape back to teach again."

"What?!" exclaimed Harry, Hermione, and Rose together in instant shock.

"Yeah, apparently Dumbledore says that he deserves to have his job back, so he's going to give it to him."

Cracks suddenly appeared in whatever joy any of them had for returning to Hogwarts. Of all the people that they wanted to see back at the castle, Professor Severus Snape was among the last. Even though there had been plenty of news coverage praising the man's actions, it didn't stop Snape from becoming one of the most controversial figures in recent Wizarding history. To say that people had differing opinions on his character was an understatement. In fact, the four friends knew of other students who struggled with the apparent truth. Actually, some continued to say that he was so vile that he might as well have stayed a Death Eater.

"Alright, as much as I respect Professor Dumbledore, what is he thinking?" asked Harry.

"You know, that's exactly what my mum said when she read it in the _Prophet _this morning." said Ron.

"It was in the_ Prophet_?" Rose raised her eyebrows. "God, I need to get that subscription. I'm surprised there hasn't been an uproar of protest."

"It might be a little late for that," said Harry. "I guess Dumbledore has the public convinced."

"Precisely," Hermione jumped in. "I would think that the public would only allow it to happen if they knew Dumbledore was keeping him on a really short leash."

"Pity to the muggles who just sent their children off to be taught by a slightly unstable former servant of He-who-is-recently-deceased," Ron laughed.

At that, Rose abruptly got up and went for the door. "I've got to see this for myself."

"Where are you going?" asked Hermione.

"I'm going to find a copy of the _Prophet_. There's bound to be at least one on this damn train." Before she left, Rose went into her handbag, still sitting on the seat, and brought forth a few silver sickles. She tossed them to Harry. "When the trolley comes this way, get me a package of Pumpkin Pasties, will you?" After Harry nodded yes, Rose went outside and disappeared down the car.

She hadn't been gone long when the lunch trolley stopped in front of their door. Harry and Ron loaded up on Chocolate Frogs, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Harry did get the Pumpkin Pasties Rose had asked for, but he also decided to put in for packages of Droobles Chewing Gum for her and the others. Harry was in a generous mood that day, eager to provide for his companions.

A couple of minutes later, Rose came back with a copy of the _Daily Prophet _in her hands. Her eyes were going up and down the front page, looking for the headline. She sat down next to Hermione and opened the paper. She then dug into her handbag again and out came a thermos of what turned out to be hot tea. Harry tossed her the treats. She noticed the Droobles and said, "Oh Harry, I think these are yours." She tossed them back.

"Oh no, I bought those for you."

"Why?"

"I'm just feeling generous today. I had some extra money, so it was no trouble."

"Aww, thanks Harry. You're such a sweetheart, Ginny is a lucky girl." Rose ate one of the pastries and then looked back down at the paper. She fiddled with the Droobles wrapping as she glared at the parchment. "Yes! Here it is!" She pointed the article out as she read it aloud for her friends to hear.

"_**Former Death Eater to teach classes again**_

_Though many announcements have been made about the re-opening of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the most shocking of these declarations came yesterday morning. While in a conference concerning the status and staff of the legendary school, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore announced that Professor Severus Snape, the former headmaster and war-hero who has been a subject of our pages for four months, will be returning to Hogwarts to teach in the coming year. Professor Dumbledore explained that Professor Snape, age 38, would be restored to his original post as Potions master, instead of his most recent position as the school's Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. This announcement comes only ten weeks after Snape was tried by the Ministry of Magic for alleged actions and ties to He-who-must-not-be-named, and found innocent. However, the decision to put him back in the school environment was not a popular one, as some are still questioning Snape's motives and loyalties. When asked about his decision to reinstate the former Potions master, Professor Dumbledore stated "I saw this as my opportunity to give back and reward a brave man for his perilous deeds. And it is my opinion that it would be the ideal choice in any circumstance. I believe Professor Snape to be a good teacher, an excellent Potions master, and a fine wizard. Therefore, I'm giving him and the students the chance to start anew and continue on as we always have." Professor Dumbledore went on to say that Snape's loyalties have always been with the side of good, and that he completely trusted the Potions professor. He stated that while Snape was not a particularly popular teacher with most students at Hogwarts (with the exception of the students of Slytherin, the house that Snape maintains headship of); the students would be in absolutely no danger and would be in good hands at all times. Professor Dumbledore also said as a comfort to parents and guardians that in the event that anything of particular concern did happen, the necessary actions would be taken. When Professor Snape was later contacted about his own views on his employment, he stated that he had no comment at that time."_

"Of course, he had no comment!" said Ron. "What the hell is he supposed to say?"

"Hey, take it easy," Hermione motioned to Ron. "If it hadn't been for Snape, Merlin knows where we would be now."

"That might be true, but that doesn't mean that I have to take this lightly."

"I kind of agree with Ron," said Rose, tossing the paper aside. "This is insane."

Hermione sat forward. "It makes perfect sense to me. Everyone else gets to start over, why shouldn't he?"

"At least let the dust settle a bit first," said Ron, crossing his legs. Across from him, Rose took a swig from her thermos. "Ron, if we didn't know about it until now, I think it already has."

"Just why are you so bitter about this?" asked Hermione, fingering her way through a box of Bertie Bott's. "Given what we know…"

Ron sat up, planting both feet firmly on the floor and lacing his fingers together "Alright, I get it. Snape was really working for Dumbledore all along, he helped defeat Voldemort, he's as much a hero as Harry is. But seriously, think about it Hermione. That doesn't mean the man is going to change."

Hermione's eyebrows wrinkled as she opened her mouth to respond. But just before she could get any words out, her eyes wandered away. She seemed to have suddenly started thinking and retreated into her mind. Beside her, Rose was nodding in agreement. Ron turned to Harry. "You see my point, don't you?"

"I guess I do. Depends on what you mean by change."

"Think Harry. This is Snape we're talking about. This is the guy who has hated you with a passion for years for something that you had absolutely no control over."

"He was still protecting me."

"While making your life a living hell."

"He was doing it for my mother. He did everything for her."

"Harry, you sort of let the whole world know that he was in love with your mum, and people have been talking about it all summer. You think he'd appreciate that?"

Harry's face molded into a mask of utter annoyance. "I know, but that's when I thought he was dead," he said. His eyes rolled to the ceiling as he let out a shallow sigh. "Thanks a lot, Ron, for reminding me about that…like I need that now."

Ron continued his argument. "The way I see it, Snape was never a nice guy before, and he isn't going to be now."

"You're probably right," Harry agreed, biting down on a licorice wand. "That's just the way Snape is, war or no war."

"I can't imagine what that class is going to be like," sighed Hermione.

"I'll tell you what that class is going to be like, Mione," Ron answered. "Two words…bloody…hell!"

Harry groaned. "And something tells me that he's not going to treat the Gryffindors any better."

"Harry's right. It might get worse."

"Hey guys, you never know," Rose said, finally getting back into the conversation. The trio all looked at her attentively, though a bit puzzled.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"I get what all of you are saying. I understand; Snape does deserve respect. I have no problems with that."

"Of course you don't," Ron interrupted. "You managed to do pretty well in Potions without Snape harassing you at every turn."

"Hey, he's picked on me too!" Rose leaned in towards Ron, reached out her hand and smacked Ron's arm, making him flinch. "Now, don't interrupt me. I respected Snape in the past, and I respect him now. He is a great wizard after all. But it's like you already said, Snape was a git, and likely still is."

"What are you getting at, Rose?" asked Ron.

"What she's trying to say is that maybe Snape won't be _as _harsh to us this year," explained Hermione. "If Snape comes back to a Hogwarts that sees him for what he did in the war, and they commend him for it, then maybe he will return the favor."

"Exactly," said Rose with a nod. "And who knows? Maybe a little time in Azkaban wore him down a bit."

"Thinking of the positives, are we?" Harry said with a smile.

"Well…yeah, I guess I am. We're all here so we can get on with our lives. And whether we like it or not, Snape was part of our lives. We managed it then, and we can manage it now."

"You're almost starting to sound like you're glad to see Snape get his job handed back to him on Dumbledore's silver platter." Ron smirked as he cocked his eyebrow.

Rose chuckled. "Don't be so crazy, Ron," she said. "I'm not totally thrilled about it either. I don't like him anymore than you do."

"You could have fooled me," Harry laughed. "After all, you _did _get good marks in Potions."

"That's rubbish, Harry. Do you not see who I'm sitting next to?" Rose pointed in Hermione's direction. "I was never as good as Hermione is."

"Pretty close," suggested Harry.

"Over exaggeration, but I'll take it." Rose smiled with smug pride. "Alright, I got good marks. But I cannot and _will not _say that Snape is the reason behind it. I earned them like everyone else did. Hell, I'm lucky that I wasn't like you two and got atrocious grades just because Snape didn't like me." She pointed to Harry and Ron.

"He never liked any of us, really," Hermione pointed out, rather reluctantly.

Rose reached for her tea thermos again. "Like that's anything new. At least I didn't spend the summer on the front cover of a newspaper. I feel bad for you three conquering heroes."

The three conquering heroes groaned, making Rose laugh under her breath. Ron glared at her. "You had to say it. You can be quite the little bitch sometimes, you know that?"

"Aren't we all?" Rose grinned playfully. "And even so, it isn't like we should have expected any better. No matter how good you or I or anyone was, compared to his precious little snakes, did he ever give us any credit?"

"No…" The girls said this together, wagging their fingers. The boys rolled their eyes, Harry sighing into his hand which had slowly come up to his face. Rose noticed this. "What's your problem?" she asked with a laugh.

"Nothing, it's just that you two are so cute when you have a moment."

"So are Hermione and Ron, but you don't acknowledge that." There was a brief moment of honest laughter at Harry's expense. He tried to sway the conversation off of him again.

"But you know what? The more that I listen to you all, the more I agree with Ron."

Hermione frowned. "That just doesn't seem right. We have every reason in the world to see Snape in a new light, and you're still sitting here blaming him for our problems."

"Oh Hermione, I don't think we're doing quite _that_," said Harry

"Old habits die hard, mate." Ron chuckled as he lightly punched Harry's shoulder. He suddenly glanced in Hermione's direction, getting her attention with the mere blink of his eye. "Why don't we let Snape decide what's gonna happen?"

"Oh yes…I agree," Hermione said in a way that suggested she was distracted, slowly beginning to inch her way over to Ron's side of the compartment. It very quickly became apparent to both Harry and Rose that their conversation was indefinitely over as the bushy brunette settled back into the crook of Ron's arm. Harry almost squirmed at the prospect of where this was heading. Rose, meanwhile, took a little pleasure in suddenly having the seat to herself, kicking up her feet and stretching out her legs. She noticed the look on Harry's face and giggled.

"Come on, Harry. I'll rescue you." Rose bent her legs back. Harry quickly hopped over to the other side and settled into the empty space. He noticed Rose's hand out of the corner of his right eye, holding the cap of her thermos. "Tea?" she offered. Harry reluctantly took hold of the small cup of scalding hot liquid and gulped it down.

"Thanks," he said, coughing against the heat.

"Gee, you're talking like that was something more substantial than just earl grey." Rose took a whiff of her tea. "Maybe I should add something to it sometime. A little rum might not hurt." It seemed that this was directed more to herself. She looked up to the couple across from them. Ron and Hermione were nuzzling into each other, the looks in their eyes showing just how oblivious to the world they were. Harry and Rose exchanged looks.

"Still not used to that?" asked Rose, indicating the love-birds.

"I don't think I ever will be." Harry shook his head, his gaze traveling out the window, watching the passing flashes of green and gold that was the English countryside. "It doesn't bother you?"

"Me? No, not at all. To tell you the truth, I've been waiting for it since we were fifteen." Rose stuffed half a Pumpkin Pasty into her mouth, washing it down with a long swig. "You might not have to worry about You-know-who anymore, but I don't think your term will be uneventful." She laughed.

"Hey!" Ron suddenly objected. "We can hear you, you know!"

**~HP~**

_**Hey, I just want to say a few things about Rose before I get deeper into the plot. Because she plays a large part in the story, I have tried very hard not to make her overly Mary-sue-ish. I'm aware that her appearance and her name might be construed as such, but trust me, they all have their purposes. Just hang in there for a while, I promise. I have never put more into a character in my writing life, and I really hope I've done some kind of justice.**_

_**Keep on reading and leave your reviews!**_


	3. Back at Hogwarts

_**Disclaimer: **__**The world and characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership to anything except original characters.**_

**~HP~**

And so it was that come night fall, just as it had for decades before, the Hogwarts Express came to a slow, screeching halt at Hogsmeade Station. Within seconds of the final lurch, students of all ages began to pour out of the compartments, heading for the doors leading out. Harry had asked Ron to keep their box door closed, choosing to wait until the flow of teenagers had died down enough for them to slip out easily. Students poured out onto the platform in a predictably disorderly fashion, housemates and year-mates already bunching together in a flurry of whispers and babble. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked together down the way with Rose following not far behind. As they pushed and maneuvered their way through the crowd, a familiar voice came echoing over the white noise.

"New Firs' years! This way! This way, please! New Firs' years, over here!"

The so-called Golden Trio rushed over to Rubeus Hagrid as he appeared out of the darkness, gigantic lantern in hand. "Hagrid!" Harry called, beaming at the sight of his half-giant friend.

"Harry! An' Ron an' Hermione!" Hagrid raised his arms above more than a few heads, welcoming the greeting. "Glad ter see all of yeh back again."

"It's great to see you, Hagrid," said Hermione with her charming little smile. She didn't really know why she said it; they had only just seen the gamekeeper a week or so before in Diagon Alley, not really enough time to warrant an excited greeting. But it just seemed appropriate for the occasion, and Hagrid didn't miss a single beat otherwise.

"I'll tell yeh," he smiled. "This year ought ter be great, now that we haven't got ol' You-know-who to worry about." Looking past Ron's head, Hagrid noticed the second head of red hair. Almost mistaking it for Ginny, he looked again. "Why, Rose Beckett! Haven't seen yeh in a while. How are yeh?"

"As good as I can be, Hagrid," said Rose from behind Ron and Hermione. Like many students of Hogwarts, Rose was friendly enough with the school's gamekeeper. It was a shame that she was also one of those students who he couldn't help academically. She had taken Care of Magical Creatures for a time. But she dropped the class after their fourth year when it became quite clear that she was just one of those witches whose range of ability only extended to owls and cats.

"Don't any of yeh be shy now. Stop by for tea sometime. Yer all more than welcome." Hagrid looked up behind their heads at the mesmerized little First years, then back down at the bespectacled lad "Hope to see yeh soon, Harry. Alright, only the newest Firs' years, follow me! This way!"

He turned and began back down the platform. Hagrid's massive figure disappeared back into the darkness of the night, the light of his lantern the only thing left to see. The shaking kids, whether in excitement or in apprehension, followed suit into the inky black. Smiles on their faces, Harry and the others made their way off of the platform and into the surrounding wood, heading for the clearing where the school carriages waited for them. Upon reaching their destination, Harry stepped forward. But then he realized that the only footsteps he heard were his own. He turned and saw that his companions had stopped where they stood, their faces all frozen in chilled wonder. Harry followed their eyes and realized what it was. They had caught sight of the Thestral that that was pulling the carriage that was currently being boarded by a group of younger girls.

"What? You know what they are," he said.

"I know," said Ron, his eyebrows arching up. "But _that's _what they look like?"

"Haven't I _tried _telling you that?" Harry pointed out. "And you can stop staring like that. You know that they're just about harmless."

"Yes, but that was before we could see them." Ron shook his head.

"I'm with you on that," said Rose from beside him, her voice a bit soft.

The three silently agreed to quickly get over their dumbstruck awe. They stepped into the clearing, Ron gathering Hermione up in one arm, and Rose respectively lagging behind. Both girls seemed to be having trouble with looking away from the Thestral. More familiar voices began to float up from the path behind them. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan seemed to be enthralled in some conversation when they too caught sight of the dark, skeletal horse.

"Bloody hell! That's a Thestral?" said Dean.

"You would have known that if you had read that book," said Harry, prompting him to wrinkle his eyebrows in confusion at his own statement. Had Hermione just possessed him for a second or two? Dean and Seamus turned at the sound of his voice.

"Harry!"

There was a flurry of greetings as the Seventh year Gryffindors came together. It was as though they hadn't gathered in such a way for decades. Dean and Seamus, in particular, thought it appropriate to make a jolly fuss of Hermione and Ron's newfound romance. Ron took it all with pride while Hermione just looked embarrassed, looking to Harry for backup. Harry somehow knew that it would be useless in the end. Rose was glancing around the area, knowing that there were more folks to come. Her three mates knew a bit too well who she was thinking of. After all, as they had come to realize over time, there were only so many that Rose chose to spend her time with.

And sure enough…

"Oh my god, hi!" an excited, high-pitched voice rang out. Lavender Brown half ran, half skipped down the path, and just behind her were the Patil sisters. All the girls stopped by Rose, who flashed a smile in their direction. Harry watched them sporadically, amidst his conversations with his other housemates.

Lavender hadn't changed a bit. She had that same curly blonde hair and that same lively look on her face that suggested she was hopped up on caffeine. She also seemed to be much happier these days. The twins did also, but to Harry, it seemed that Parvati had had taken it upon herself to make a small change. While her sister's dark hair still hung in a long braid, Parvati had cut at least half her length off and it now hung around her shoulders in tousled waves. Rose carefully touched the ends in a gesture of admiration.

For a moment, Harry watched the four girls interact. As chummy as Rose was with Hermione these days, it would have been impossible for her to share a dormitory with Lavender and Parvati and not have some sort of relationship with them. She might have been forced to choose sides at times, but that never stopped Rose from being friendly with her fellow Gryffindor girls. Harry recalled one instance between the two girls, when Hermione had once privately asked Rose what she saw in that blonde airhead. This was back in their sixth year, amidst the whole Ron/Lavender episode. Rose's response, rather bluntly was, "I like who I like." It all made for a very uncomfortable night in Gryffindor tower.

Lavender appeared to be telling Rose some invigorating story when she suddenly looked beyond Rose's head, quite distracted. Justin Finch-Fletchly had walked by. Harry didn't need to assume anything. Lavender was looking at Justin the way she used to look at Ron.

"I'll see you all later," she said, excusing herself. She darted off after Justin. Parvati and Padma also bid Rose goodbye, Padma choosing to join her Ravenclaw housemates while Parvati joined Dean and Seamus as they boarded the next carriage. Harry walked over to Rose, who was still spying on Lavender as she talked with Justin.

"She'll be snogging him in a month," said Rose, a suppressed laugh laced through her words.

"How do you tolerate that?" Harry asked, referring over to Lavender's flirtatious, animated character.

"I've told you before. She's good in small doses." Rose sounded like she didn't want to admit that, but still smiled.

"Hey guys," Neville Longbottom had just approached the little group, getting their attention. Hanging onto his right arm was a whimsically sunny Luna Lovegood. Harry raised his eyebrows; he wouldn't have put those two together in a million years. Neville stepped forward and shook Harry's hand. Harry was impressed with the firm strength Neville had acquired as of late.

"Hey Neville, congratulations," said Rose. "I heard you've been recruited to Minister Shacklebolt's Auror force."

"Yeah, I was," Neville smiled, practically blushing. "I didn't think I deserved it as much as Harry and Ron did."

"Oh, shut up. I was there, you did."

"Well thank you, Rose, for such support." Neville sounded as though he was trying to be sarcastic. Luna smiled at Rose, to which Rose responded with a twitch of her mouth. Unlike her friends, Rose never did quite see eye to eye with Luna. Even there, it seemed uncomfortable between the two girls. Rose stepped back from the group and surprisingly, Harry took a bit of offense to that.

Another carriage came to a halt in the clearing, twigs snapping underneath the wheels. Ron glanced at it and turned to the others. "Hey guys, lets grab this one. We can talk on the way up." He motioned for Hermione to follow him. Luna also followed the couple, gently tugging on Neville's arm. Harry waited for his friends to board the carriage before moving to do so himself. But just before he stepped up to the door, he looked behind him where Rose, still lagging behind, waited for her turn. Her eyes were glued to the haunting creature at the coach's head, looking a bit lost in some unknown thought.

"Hard to ignore, aren't they?" he said, attracting Rose's gaze. She shook her head, tossing locks of red hair back behind her shoulders. "A bit," she said on a sigh. She glanced back at the Thestral.

"Come on," said Harry, stepping out of the way to let Rose on.

**~HP~**

It was a pleasant sight to see. Carriage after carriage, loaded with children, bouncing and creaking as they made their way up the path that led up to the magnificent fortress that was Hogwarts castle. It was even more pleasant for the older students to look out on the lake and see the little glimmer of lanterns. At that moment, the new First years were getting their first look at the school, probably awestruck at the sight. To think that this might not have happened if events had panned out differently.

Up at the castle, unseen to the eye, the Hogwarts ghosts took great delight in watching the first few carriages pull up to the huge front doors, and the first groups of students step out. The halls were soon filled with young voices. Footsteps echoed off the walls, headed for the Great hall.

From his place at the center of the Head table, Albus Dumbledore watched with witless glee as hundreds of uniformed children poured through the doors, and began taking seats at their house tables. The teachers around him also watched, though some looked less joyful and more like they were nursing a stress headache. The looks on their faces at the sight of their least favorite students back again was something that Dumbledore couldn't help but find amusing.

Harry and Ron settled on a spot down toward the center of the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Rose sat down across from them. The other Seventh year Gryffindors seemed to be crowding around them, and there was probably a reason for that. That is, other than Harry's revamped notoriety. Harry and Hermione had the honor of being named Head Boy and Head Girl. That, of course, meant one of two things. Either you come to find that no one cared, or you suddenly found yourself with an entourage. Both Harry and Hermione had hoped for the former.

They were in the middle of some conversation when Neville, who sat a ways down from Harry, looked up to the Head table. "Merlin, its Professor Lupin!"

This surprised exclamation obviously caught the attention of his companions, causing them to look up to where their teachers sat. Remus Lupin sat two places down from the right side of Dumbledore's chair, a small smile across his face as he conversed with Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick.

"What's he doing here?" asked Seamus.

"You don't suppose he's got Defense against the Dark Arts back, do you?" Hermione asked, quite surprised.

"It doesn't shock me," Ron snickered. Hermione looked across the table at Ron and Harry. Both of them had very smug smirks on their faces. Within seconds, a burn of realization shot through her brilliant mind.

"You sneaky little gits. You knew he would be here, didn't you?" She pointed an accusing finger at them. Next to her, Rose was looking back and forth between the Head table and the two young men, an amused, crooked smile tugging at her face. Harry shook his head as Ron chuckled, half to himself. They glanced at each other briefly before laughing. "So you did know!" Hermione accused. Rose, also giggling, tugged at Hermione's sleeve in an attempt to get that finger down.

"He told me about three weeks ago," said Harry. "But he asked me not to tell anyone else."

"Oh really? If Remus asked you not to tell others, then why is Ron laughing like he knows something?" Hermione glanced at the person in question with a wrinkled eyebrow.

"You didn't think that Harry would be able to resist the urge to let me in on a good secret, now did you?" Ron flashed his charming smile at her. Hermione didn't seem to be too amused as her response was, "And not tell me as well?"

"Hey, don't blame me." Harry waved a hand at her. "I wanted to tell you too. _Your boyfriend _stopped me." He couldn't stop himself from speaking with a certain smirk.

Hermione looked at Ron, who offered an apologetic chuckle. "And you find that funny?" she scolded.

"Not as much as I did three weeks ago."

"Good save, Weasley," Seamus laughed from down the table. Harry saw both Hermione and Rose roll their eyes at that. They all looked back up to watch Lupin chat with his old colleagues.

"It wouldn't have surprised me though," said Ron. "I mean, the job's open, and he was the best we had. If I were headmaster, I would hire him again."

"Took the words from my mouth," said Harry.

"He looks like he's doing well for himself," Rose commented, cocking her head to the side. And she was right. In recent weeks, Lupin had been able to obtain a whole new set of robes to replace his old, worn out clothing. In fact, he now looked better than Harry or anyone else there had ever seen him before. The young wizard was relieved; losing Tonks had been terribly rough on the poor man, leaving him to raise their son Teddy on his own. It had also been an incredibly difficult decision to leave the baby boy in the care of Andromeda Tonks while he was away teaching. But it was good to see that Remus was not letting anything like heartache or regret slow him down.

"I'm glad," Hermione smiled. "He deserves it."

"Is he really back to teach?" Rose asked Harry. Harry slowly nodded, though with an assuring smile. "But wouldn't the fact that he's a werewolf matter?" Rose brought a stern hand up, leaning her elbow on the tabletop. "Not to cast any opinion on his character."

"Don't underestimate Dumbledore." Harry arched his eyebrow in a sarcastic gesture. Rose giggled at that.

"Who really cares about that anyway?" asked Hermione.

"A lot of people would probably have a teeny, tiny problem with that," Rose pointed out. "Isn't that technically what drove him away last time?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders like he didn't want to admit it.

"She does have a point," said Ron, nodding to Rose. "That could be why it wasn't mentioned in the _Prophet_ at all."

Hermione shook her head, sighing as she did so. "It's just a shame. I mean, Remus really deserves this. He's a hero."

"So is Snape, but we weren't exactly quiet about that."

"Speaking of Snape," said Ron, unintentionally interrupting Harry. "Wonder where he is." The rest of his companions looked up to the Head table and each went down the line of professors. Oddly, Snape was nowhere to be seen among them.

"That's a bit funny, isn't it?" Rose wrinkled her nose with her comment. Beside her, Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Yes, very peculiar."

"What, does he get some sort of grand entrance as part of his new contract?" Ron couldn't stop himself from laughing at the idea.

"If he does, I don't really see Snape being too fond of that idea."

The loud creaking of the massive doors stopped Harry from going any further. The noise began to die down as Minerva McGonagall walked down the center of the hall, a roll of parchment in her hands. Behind her followed the new batch of students. An interesting fact suddenly became apparent to their older counterparts. Even though all the children were repeating their respective years, Dumbledore had made it clear that he did not want to exclude the young ones that would have been entering that term. They would simply be combined with the already established First years. And therefore, the First year class was going to be huge! Not only that, but it was also going to be a tad bit confusing when you realized that half the kids had a year on the other.

Everyone, Harry and his friends included, watched the Sorting ceremony silently and respectively. They applauded with smiles as each new Gryffindor took their seats at the table. They watched as the more habituated students talked with them, making them feel comfortable. More than a few had flashbacks to eight years before when they were in that place. Harry also couldn't ignore the blissfully pleased looks on the faces of the Heads of House. That is, except for one.

"Hey, look who finally decided to slip in," Harry subtly pointed to the Head table. His friends, as well as the other Seventh years who had overheard, practically whipped her heads in that direction. Sometime during the Sorting, Severus Snape had appeared in a chair which sat between Lupin and what would be McGonagall's place. Unlike many of his colleagues, Snape did not look very happy to be there. His face held a glare of indifference, and it appeared like he was trying very hard to ignore his former classmate beside him. He held himself with a certain dignity, and yet he let his back rest against his chair. It was as though he couldn't present the same pride as in past years. To Harry, it even looked like Snape was tired.

It took roughly forty minutes to sort fifty children amongst the four houses. Once the last new Hufflepuff was sitting down, Dumbledore rose to his feet. He was silent for a moment, allowing time for the students to quiet down again and giving McGonagall a chance to sit down. Only then did he speak.

"Welcome all to a new year at Hogwarts!" His voice rang out loud and clear, holding the attention of everyone in the room. There was brief bout of applause, brought on by a few excited students. The headmaster patiently waited for it to fade away again before continuing. "As I have a fair many times in the past, I have a few notices for you before we continue with our evening. Firstly, new students should adhere to the rule that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students. Students are reminded that absolutely _no magic _is to be performed in the halls. And lastly, our caretaker Mr. Filch wishes me to inform you that a new restriction has been placed on a number of new Weasley Bros. products, a list of which has been posted in your common rooms. Now, there are a few changes in staffing for this new term. To begin, I am delighted to welcome Professor Cassandra Wicker."

He gestured to a seat down from his left. A middle-aged witch sat there with idyllic poise as she smiled at Dumbledore. Thick locks of brown hair were pulled back and away from a maturely pretty face and surprisingly bright brown eyes. "She has so graciously accepted the task of teaching our Muggle Studies classes after the tragic loss of our dear Charity Burbage. I'm sure that she will do her best to pick up the pieces and make her class a favorite of students again." Dumbledore encouraged the students to applaud, which they did in a politely courteous manner. Professor Wicker nodded to her students with a modest smile.

"It is also my pleasure to welcome back Professor Lupin." The old wizard found himself interrupted by instant cheering from students, Fifth year and up. But that was probably to be expected. Amused smirks travelled down the table to where Lupin was humbly shaking his head, laughing inwardly. "It seems that he's back by popular demand!" Dumbledore chuckled, making others laugh with him. "Yes, it is truly wonderful to have him here with us again. He has been a tremendous aid to the side of good against Lord Voldemort, and I hope that you join me in wishing him luck in picking up where he left off all those years ago." The applause was thunderous from those who remembered Lupin as the DADA teacher. He gave a little nod of the head, acknowledging the praise.

"Finally," Dumbledore held up his hands. "Our dear friend, Professor Slughorn has decided to return to retirement. But as far as his replacement is concerned, I couldn't have possibly found a better person than this man. After all, he did teach Potions quite successfully for fifteen years. It is my honor and my pleasure to welcome back Professor Snape."

The room was filled with mumbling. Exclamations of the Potions master's name rose up above the chatter. Obviously, some had not been reading the newspaper. However, some chose to remain respectively silent. It wasn't like they could try and protest Dumbledore's choices. That would just get them nowhere. Even an odd number of Slytherins were strangely quiet.

"As many of you now know, Professor Snape was a major part in bringing about Lord Voldemort's downfall. He spent many years working to achieve this, often putting himself in great danger for the cause. I believe that he is a very courageous man for putting himself in such a place. I can even say that he is one of the great heroes to come out of this dark time in our history."

"He sure is laying it on thick, isn't he?" said Rose in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, honestly. For magic's sake, is all that really necessary?" Ron agreed with a quiet snicker.

"But it's true," Hermione corrected. "Every word of that is true."

"Mione, you're my world, but give it up," shrugged Ron.

"Ronald!" His girlfriend hissed. Ron blew her a kiss, making her huff. She turned to Rose. "You know that." Rose shrugged, a bit confused. Hermione rolled her eyes as she looked to Harry. "Surely you see that I'm right, don't you Harry?"

"Perhaps," Harry wrinkled his eyebrows, taking on an expression that was not unlike Rose's at the moment.

"So you admit that he's a hero."

"I do, with reality in mind."

Hermione looked insulted. "You say that like it's a bad thing." And somewhat reluctantly, that was where the brief conflict ended as Dumbledore continued.

"Therefore, in light of these recent days, it is my hope that you welcome him back into our family with respect, appreciation, and gratitude for all that he's done for us." The applause that followed was sparse at first, but it did grow as more accepted the element of truth in the headmaster's speech. A number of Slytherins cheered, overcoming their unease over the appropriateness of latching onto their Head of House.

"I wish all the luck in the world to all new and returning staff members. On a more serious note, I hope that you all understand just how lucky you are to be here tonight. I don't want to credit our victory to good fortune alone, although I will admit that it did have some bearing on how these events played out. Nonetheless, the odds were stacked greatly against us. And if it hadn't been for those brave men and women who fought so hard to save our freedom, I'll have you all know that things could have turned out quite differently. Every one of you has been affected by this war, and a fair few of you saw the true horrors of the battle that took place on these very grounds. You're lucky just to have lived to tell the tale to your grandchildren one day. I began this term as a repeat-term for a reason, other than to give you a much better education than you received last year. My only genuine request for you, as my students, is to make the most of this year. Those in your final year should especially take note. I want you to use this year for what it is; a chance to not only restart your education, but a chance to move on with your lives. We have all been through a lot, but you don't deserve to let Lord Voldemort loom in your minds long after he should have been forgotten. You all are much too young for such a burden. So therefore, let this year at Hogwarts be a year that you'll never forget. Let it be filled with thrills, camaraderie, and memories. And let it be the beginning of the bright future that now waits for you beyond these walls."

The faculty and Seventh years led the way in a nearly full minute long, thunderous applause. It was actually rather funny. They knew that it was a bit absurd, and it wasn't like Dumbledore really wanted such praise. The old wizard waited patiently before raising his index finders, catching the attention of his pupils. "And so with no further ado, let us indulge in our marvelous feast."

A massive variety of food appeared on the plates that adorned the tables. The students immediately helped themselves to their meals, some choosing to take a second helping before they had even started on their first. Conversation was slow to begin, people more interested in their food than each other. But the incoherent babble got increasingly louder as conversations arose about such things as families, summer holidays, and new relationships. The latter was a topic of much interest amongst the seventh years at the center of the table.

"So Ron and Hermione," Parvati grinned from her seat, several places away from the Golden trio. "You two finally made it official. How long has it been, a few weeks?"

"I don't believe that's any of your business," Hermione smiled an embarrassed smile, practically mincing the roast chicken in front of her.

"Not that it really matters," Ron laughed under his breath. He shoveled a forkful of his Cornish pasty into his mouth. He only stopped chewing when Lavender's voice echoed down the table "Oh, so proud of our relationships, are we?"

Hermione's face scrunched up in annoyance and quiet fury. This was the one part about returning to school that she dreaded the most. She and Lavender never got along before, they certainly couldn't stand each other when Lavender was dating Ron, and they never would agree on anything in the future. But if there was one thing that Lavender was _really _good at, it was sticking her nose in people's business. Hermione didn't need to be as smart as she was to know that Lavender was not going to stay quiet about her and Ron, and in reality, there was no way to stop it without someone getting hurt.

However…

"Lavender, hush!" Rose stuck her fork straight into her shepherd's pie and pointed at the blonde. "Don't make me come over there."

"But Rose –," Lavender tried to complain, but Rose stopped her. "He'll shut up too." She quickly turned to Ron. "Ron, shut up. Now Lavender, be civil."

"I will if she is." Both Rose and Hermione were flabbergasted by such a comment. The boys laughed as Hermione turned to Harry for aid. Harry, having nearly choked on a piece of beef, was hiding his laughter in his hand. Then Rose started laughing. "Forgive me, I must have missed something. I didn't see or hear anything that could remotely be considered an attack on your character."

"Well…for further emphasis." Lavender seemed particularly confident in that statement, prompting a nod from Parvati.

"Very well," Rose picked up her fork again. "Now, everybody relax. No need for bickering when people are trying to eat." She licked the bits of mashed potatoes off of the prongs.

"But that's what makes them so adorable!" Seamus chuckled, elbowing Ron in the side. Dean also joined in the merriment, as did Neville. Harry shook his head, though he couldn't quite tell if it was out of his sheer amusement or disappointment. Hermione's cheeks flushed a bright red.

"Hey guys!" Rose arched her eyebrow, staring straight at the two friends. Her voice took on a tone that was calm and collected, but with something foreboding buried far beneath. "Gossip behind someone's back is one thing. But public humiliation is another. And either way, I don't want to get involved because the results would not be pretty."

The group was suddenly quiet, eyes flashing between a smug Ron, a blushing Hermione, and a subtly intimidating Rose. "Oh lighten up, Rose," said Harry, cutting the tension around them.

For some time after, the conversation stayed on the topic of new love. More than a few wanted to get details from Neville, who occasionally glanced to where Luna was sitting not so far away at the Ravenclaw table. Ginny Weasley also came up a few times, much to Harry's chagrin. But then Hermione spoke up again.

"He looks dreadful, don't you think? Snape, I mean."

"Well, he's not the loveliest of blokes to begin with," said Ron, reaching for a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She briefly glanced up in the direction of the head table. "No, I mean he looks very off color. His face looks paler than before, and he seems weak."

"Really Hermione," Harry jumped in. "I imagine that it's hard to look good after what happened to him."

"It's been a couple of months though," said Rose, also looking up at Snape. "I agree with Hermione. He _looks_ like he almost died."

"He doesn't look very happy either," said Neville, dragging down the mood of their group. Ron chuckled under his breath. "Like that's a surprise."

"I'm sorry that I have to ask this," said Dean. "But how in the name of magic did he survive?"

Neville nodded his head at the question. "Yeah, I've been wondering that too."

"Me too, and I was there," said Ron. "Nobody should be able to survive being bitten in the neck by a snake that size. I mean there was blood all over the –,"

"Too graphic, Ron," Harry curtly told him, definitely not wanting to revisit those particular memories. "People are eating here."

"Right, sorry." Ron scraped up a mouthful of carrots. "But still, he bled out pretty quickly. And if it wasn't the bite, then the snake's venom should have done it. I heard that it was supposed to stop your blood from clotting. What the hell happened?"

"Hermione, didn't you go up to the hospital wing for a while after the fighting was over?" asked Rose, easing her head back around. Hermione nodded at her. "Were you up there when they brought Snape in?"

Again, Hermione nodded, playing with her food as she sank into those unpleasant reveries. She hadn't been any less shocked when Harry came rushing into the medical ward, pulling her out of the way of the rapidly passing stretcher, or when she heard those healers shouting about reviving what should have been a dead body. "I only caught glimpses of what they were doing, but it was incredible how they brought him back, that he was still alive. The most that they could conclude was that he did lose a lot of blood, and he slipped into a deep coma because of it. He seemed to hang on just long enough for them to save him. How or why, they didn't have a clue."

"I wonder if it was something he did," said Harry.

"Well, he did say in our very first lesson that he could stopper death," Neville said in a dubious tone. "Maybe he's finally done it."

"We won't know until he talks." Harry glanced at the poorly-looking Potions master.

"Maybe some people just have a strong will to live," Rose suggested. Harry briefly looked at her out of the corner of a green eye before looking back up to the head table. "Yeah, maybe."

Not many noticed the caught the slight dip in Harry's tone, Rose included. But Hermione picked up on it immediately. Rose was pretty off-target with her statement, and Harry knew that better than anyone. But a simple agreement like that seemed to speak louder than anything else he could have told the relatively naïve Beckett girl. "You know, you guys should be ashamed of yourselves, the way you all talk about Snape."

"You just don't give up, do you?" said Rose, rather amused by Hermione's need to make a point.

"Well, you guys shouldn't talk so lowly about him. You especially, Harry"

"For the umpteenth time, Mione," said Harry. "Snape was a brave man for doing the things he did. But Ron made it pretty clear on the train. We, by no means, have to like him for what he is. And if I'm honest, I don't think I can."

"Harry's right," Rose added. "People don't really change that easily. Not to mention that perceptions are harder to break, your boyfriend and his best mate as my examples."

"Whose side are you on, Rose?" asked Harry with an uneasy laugh.

"Who said I had to take sides?" Rose smiled. "But anyway, I read the editorials over the summer. It was as though there was a debate going on among the people. Half are like you and the other half are like Ron and Harry."

"Just to reiterate, I do respect him." Harry held a hand out to the ginger girl.

"Then you should treat him as such," Hermione quietly scolded. But Harry was quick to respond. "To quote Lavender, I will if he does."

The response from the Gryffindors was a bit absurd, even getting the attention of students on either side of the table. Harry and Ron looked across to the Slytherin table, where they quickly picked out a rather dismal looking Draco Malfoy. His face held his familiar scowl, yet it seemed like it was suppressing some depressing thought. He stared down with them for a moment before rolling his eyes and turning to talk to Pansy Parkinson, who was resting her head on his left shoulder.

"Now Harry," Hermione chewed out, bringing his attention back. Ron stopped his girlfriend by folding down her index finger into her fist, and completely covering her hand with his. "Let me show you what we've been trying to tell you." He turned to the others. "From what you know of recent events, how many of you believe that Snape is a respectable bloke?"

Knives, forks, spoons, and fingers went up and hovered above plates of half-eaten meals. Ron nodded, as did Hermione, Harry, and Rose. He then continued. "Now, how many of you think that means he's going to suddenly start acting like a pleasant human being, stop taking ludicrous amounts of house points, or – dare I say it – smile?" It took some time, but many of those fingers and utensils fell back down, only Lavender and Parvati remaining. Then Ron turned back to Hermione. "See?"

"Had it ever occurred to you that everyone's a bit biased." Hermione was suspicious, a distinct curve in her eyebrow.

"It's in the realm of possibility," said Harry.

"Can I just say something?" Rose asked, resting a hand on Hermione's arm. She pointed up to where Snape sat. "Does that look like a happy man to you?" Hermione looked at the pale, weary Potions master and couldn't do anything but reluctantly shake her head. Rose sighed. "I don't want to say that you're wrong, because I don't think you are. I just want you to be prepared for the possibility that Ron is right."

"Are you ready for that?" Seamus asked from beside Ron. "If Snape wakes up tomorrow and decides that he hates us, would you take that abuse lying down?"

"I didn't say that," Rose verified. "I just think we should keep an open mind."

"Easier said than done, Beckett," said Ron, who once again began to indulge in his meal.

**~HP~**

The night wore on, many of the castle's inhabitants oblivious to the time. But still, the time did eventually come when the students started off for their dormitories in a thundering herd. Harry and Hermione soon discovered that there was a group of other Gryffindors following them as they made their way up the stairs. This group only got bigger with every floor of the castle. Harry even thought that by the time they reached Gryffindor Tower, they had half of the whole house behind them. Thankfully, many of the kids decided that it was late enough and made for their rooms, leaving their oldest housemates to settle down in the common room.

Ron and Hermione had claimed the sofa, though the only evidence of their romance was Ron's arm around the bushy-haired brunette. Hermione kicked up her feet and tucked them close to her body as she leaned into the embrace. Beside her, Rose relaxed into the cushions with crossed legs and a pleasantly limp form. Harry sat in the chair next to the fireplace; sinking into it so that he could rest his head on its back. Down on the floor were Seamus and Dean, whereas Neville had pulled a chair over from the table in the corner. That was where Lavender and Parvati now sat, listening from a distance.

Conversations from dinner rose up again, quiet laughter filling the space. Comments and other nonsense travelled back and forth across the room. This continued for about an hour before Seamus got up off the floor and disappeared up the stairs. His companions were a bit confused, but concluded that he had merely decided to head up to bed. Dean was about to get up to follow when Seamus reentered the room. He carried a bottle of Fire Whiskey in one hand and a set of six shot glasses in the other. The Irishman set down the glasses on the table, brought forth his wand, and conjured up another three glasses. Then he popped the top off of the bottle.

"I've been saving this for a special occasion." He poured a generous amount of the smoking liquor into each glass. After replacing the cork, he waved his wand. The glasses slowly floated across the room, stopping in front of each person. They took hold of the whiskey as Seamus poured a glass for himself and raised it up.

"Here's to the first night of the rest of our lives."

He downed his whiskey with one good tilt of his head. The same was so for the others, Dean being the first one to set his glass down onto a nearby table. Harry sighed against the strong taste, slowly shaking his head, while Rose reacted with a quick little, "Woo!" Ron offered to finish off Hermione's, though she did eventually man up and gulped it down. Behind them, Parvati and Lavender were slow to drink.

"What, girls? No courage?" Dean laughed, prompting the others to look behind them.

"You know we don't drink," said Parvati. Lavender also nodded, turning to Seamus. "Surely we've told you that. We must have said it a hundred times."

"Don't we all?" said Harry with a certain shake of his head.

"Come on girls," Rose turned to face them. "Just this once, for camaraderie's sake."

Hermione surprised them by also shifting her gaze to the two friends and saying, "You can't get drunk off one shot."

Lavender looked at her with an expression that betrayed her thoughts, and that was, _'Damn you Granger!' _Both of the glasses soon lay empty in Seamus's hand. The quiet merriment only lasted another thirty minutes before the little group began venturing up to bed, one by one. The last ones left were Ron, Hermione, and Rose, all still taking up the sofa.

Ron looked to the clock as he yawned. "I guess I should go to bed. I told Harry I was right behind him." Hermione looked a bit disappointed, but she still smiled and leaned in for a kiss. However, she stopped herself and looked over her shoulder at Rose, who sat there with eagerly raised eyebrows. "Do you mind?" Hermione asked. Rose smugly turned her head away, giving Hermione her brief romantic moment with Ron. He then disappeared up into the dormitories.

"I think he's got the right idea," said Rose as she stretched out her legs and stood up.

"I agree," Hermione said. She got to her feet, yawning widely. Naturally, this made Rose turn her head and yawn. She blinked it away as Hermione walked to the stairs. "Come on," she urged Rose.

The two girls slowly made their way up the staircase, Hermione leading the way the entire time. Up and up they went, passing the doors of others girls' rooms. They even bypassed the door that bore the sign reading **Seventh Years**. They finally came to a stop at the door at the top of the tower. Hermione jiggled the door handle a little before it clicked down and she pushed the door open.

The room was small in comparison to the other dormitories. It only had two full-sized canopy beds, already made up in the same crimson red curtains and dressings as the others below. A nightstand sat beside either bed. They were only separated by the width of the window that looked out over the lake and the surrounding mountains. Beside the door was a vanity of dark wood, and an oval shaped, delicately carved mirror rested on its surface. Across the room was a large, handsome dresser. Two trunks rested in front of the beds.

"Say," Rose said, surprised. "Not bad being Head Girl, is it Mione?"

"Not bad at all." Hermione giggled as she walked into the room and flopped down onto what would be her bed. Rose approached the other bed, letting herself fall onto her backside. She gently hopped where she sat, testing out the quality of the bed. Her blue eyes widened. "Good lord, the mattresses _are _softer up here."

"Thank you Hermione for sharing your private room with me." Hermione half-mocked with a laugh. Rose rolled her eyes. "I was getting to that. But yes, thank you. I feel lucky that you chose me."

"You're lucky that I chose to have a roommate at all. I could have had the room all to myself." Hermione swiped her hand through the air.

"But you couldn't be outdone by Head-Boy-wonder." Rose sneered. Like Hermione, Harry had been given the option of having a roommate, a privilege that came along with their private rooms. However, it took an idiot to not realize that Ron had his foot in the door before Harry himself was aware of this. Then again, Harry might have even begged for it.

"It's not that," said Hermione. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't like being alone."

"Not to mention that your tolerance of me is far superior to that of Lavender and Parvati," Rose teased.

"I don't hate them. They're just annoying."

"Alright, whatever you say." Rose eyed the dresser. "You take the top two drawers, and I'll take the bottom two?"

"Works for me," Hermione agreed with a nod. Both of them got up and walked to the end of their beds. Rose quickly went to work with taking things out of her trunk and setting them down in the drawer. Hermione, meanwhile, had taken to sorting out her clothes and other belongings on her bed as she waited for Rose to finish.

"What did your parents think when you told them that you were Head Girl?" asked Rose, all but tossing her bras and knickers into her drawer.

"I don't think they could have been more excited," said Hermione. "How many times did my dad tell me about how proud he was?"

"You don't say." Rose sounded almost skeptical amidst her surprise. "The genius that you are, they probably knew it was coming."

"I don't know if you could say that," Hermione blushed. "But you know what? I didn't mind the fuss."

"You almost make me jealous of such praise."

"Why? Don't you get any from your family?" Hermione turned to Rose, confused.

"It's not that I don't get any, it's just not to the extent that you do. My mum's just one of those Muggles who isn't really interested in what goes on here."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "See, I find that surprising."

Rose shook her head. "It's nothing new, Hermione. You look like you think she doesn't love me."

"I certainly hope that she does." Hermione tugged at the sleeve of one of her shirts. Rose laughed as she pushed the first of her drawers closed and went to work on the other. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course, she does. She's just trying to be respectful of my _alternative lifestyle_."

The girls were quiet for some time, more focused on their unpacking, until Rose looked back to Hermione. "Say Hermione, why _did_ you choose me to room with you?"

"I already told you," Hermione didn't look, instead choosing to continue sorting. "I didn't want to be by myself up here and you and I are the most compatible of us girls."

"Is that so?" Rose cocked her eyebrow. "What about Ginny?"

Hermione was rather caught off guard by such a simple question. It took a minute or two for her to formulate an answer. "Yes, Ginny is one of my dearest friends."

"So if she were here right now, she would be me?" Again, Hermione struggled with the appropriateness of the question. Rose's voice came again. "Be honest, I don't mind."

Hermione sighed. "Alright, yes. I was going to ask Ginny before I found out she was taking the year off. But it's not like I don't like you."

Rose waved it off. "I know that. I always sort of thought that that was the truth."

"I don't mean any harm by it. I do consider you a good friend. I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't." Hermione turned to face Rose, who stood up after putting away her last pair of socks. She tapped the lid of her trunk so that it closed with a loud 'thunk'. She then walked over to her bed and spun around as she fell back onto it. "That's comforting to know."

"I should say so." Hermione pulled open her drawers and put away each carefully arranged pile, one by one. "After what we've been through, it helps to still have companionship."

Rose sighed, slowly closing her eyes. "Don't I know it?"

Hermione's heart suddenly started to sink. She knew that this was bound to come up at some point. Rose had sounded fine enough, but it was like Hermione to know better than that. She wouldn't dare admit that there was another reason why Rose stuck out amongst the crowd of potential roomies. Rose had returned to school with baggage, as did many others along with them. But it was baggage that had struck a nerve in Hermione's sensitive soul.

"It's a bit sad that your friends aren't here anymore. I mean, you were closer to them than anyone in this tower." Hermione sat down on the edge of her friend's bed as Rose sat up to look at her.

"I can't really lie to you, Hermione. I did seriously consider not coming back because of that."

"Well it's good that you did," said Hermione. "You know you're better off with a few N.E. ."

Rose's eyes wandered off, a twitchy smile tugging at her mouth. "I love how that's the first thing that comes to your mind. Never mind good times without a dark lord. We've got to focus on those exams."

Hermione tried to smile at this cheek. "You know how important they are."

"I do, but personally, I'm not worrying about them until the spring."

"What became of Jonny and Natasha? No one else seems to know," Hermione asked, cautious of her choice of words. Jonny and Natasha were two of Rose's now-absent friends. Since their second or third year, it was pretty common knowledge that where ever Rose was, the Hufflepuff and the Ravenclaw were not far away. But rather unfortunately, not many had heard from them since early May.

"Jonny wrote to me and told me that he's had enough of living around here, said that the war destroyed his view of our world. He took off for America. I think he's living in New York now. And Natasha's finishing up her education with a private tutor. She says that her family is making plans to move to Russia in January. Her dad's got a job with the Russian Ministry. I think that's where she'll end up eventually." Rose looked to the floor, suddenly seeming rather down.

Hermione shook her head. "Alright, if that's what works for them."

"To each, his own," Rose still didn't look up. "But it still amazes me that I could man up and show my face here and they couldn't."

"I'm surprised that they didn't consider how you would fare without them." Hermione wrinkled her eyebrows. "It just seems selfish of them to run off suddenly and leave you to fend for yourself, especially considering how –,"

"They did what they had to do," Rose interrupted. "It wouldn't have done much good if they both made themselves miserable by coming back to Hogwarts for my sake."

"I know, but –,"

"I want them to be happy. And if leaving Britain is what does it for them, then so be it. Besides, they both sent their love, wished me luck in the future. They promised to send owl posts every now and then."

Hermione waited patiently, anticipating another interruption. When Rose finished dancing around what Hermione was trying to say, the latter said, "I just don't think it was fair to you. They know what's happened as well as you and I do. You could have really used their support."

Rose met Hermione's gaze. "I got through the summer without them. I can get through the rest of my life without them."

"In those letters you sent me over the summer, it sounded like you were only just getting by."

"One day at a time," Rose looked away again, her voice getting softer. "I just took it one day at a time."

Hermione leaned over and got a look at Rose's face. There was a twinge of sympathy in her heart. Frowning, she rested a gentle hand on Rose's shoulder. "I know I've already told you this, but I am really sorry about your –,"

"I know you are," said Rose. "But I don't really want to talk about it. Okay?"

"Alright, I respect that." Hermione went back over to the dresser and opened it to find her pajamas. Rose, who had already set hers aside, went straight to stripping off her uniform and replacing it with the light, soft t-shirt and pants. She got into bed as Hermione finished dressing. As she turned out her covers, Hermione looked back to Rose. "I hope you know that if you ever need to talk to someone, there's always me. No one is allowed in here without my permission. You can't get more private than that."

"I think you know enough, Hermione." Rose relaxed into her pillows. "But thanks."

"Goodnight then," said Hermione as she rested her head down. Rose turned over so that her back was to her friend. "Goodnight," she yawned.

It took mere minutes for both girls to fall into a coma-like sleep. But then again, it shouldn't have too been hard in the first place. They both had been through a lot, everyone had. But no matter what horrors they had seen in their short lives, there was an overwhelming sense of peace all through the castle.

They were back at Hogwarts. They were back where they belonged.

**~HP~**

_**I know, this story has a very long beginning. I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, but there wasn't much else I could do to it while keeping with the vision I've had planned out. Trust me, it gets better.**_

_**Reviews are welcome!**_


	4. The misery in the bliss

**_Disclaimer:_****_ The world and characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership at all. I only own original characters_**

**~HP~**

Down in his personal quarters in the dark, quiet dungeons, Severus leaned on his bathroom sink. His arms supported the weight of his frail body. Being that it was still rather early in the morning, the Potions master stood there in his old, gray nightshirt. A light sweat was forming on his forehead as he looked into the mirror at his pasty face and hollow eyes. But it was only a matter of minutes before Severus lowered his head to stare down into the sink. He breathed deeply against the slow, nauseating turn that his stomach had made him endure.

To say that Severus was a bit queasy was an understatement. Since rising an hour or so before, Severus felt nothing short of ill when he really should have felt rested. He had to reluctantly thank some unseen deity that he had been spared any vomiting, though that didn't stop him from kneeling before the toilet for some time, just in case. This eventually became sitting on the edge of the bathtub and leaning in on himself. And though the nausea did seem to lessen, allowing him to stand, Severus didn't dare leave that bathroom until he had no other choice.

Severus groaned as his weary eyes met those of his reflection. Of all mornings that he had to get sick, it had to be the first day of classes. True, Severus wasn't exactly enthused by the prospect of being trapped in a room with good-for-nothing simpletons again. Not to mention that he had a morning of well-meant merrymaking from the likes Dumbledore to dread. The day had every potential to be absolutely miserable. Now top that off with trying to nurse a case of indigestion. What was worse; getting sick or the thought of being sick in front of students and colleagues?

Severus took a step back away from the sink, toward the bathroom door. But that suddenly sent the room into a slow whirl. His stomach muscles clenched as he fell to his knees and crawled over to the toilet. He leaned over the porcelain bowl as his breath suddenly began to hitch. His knuckles were white as he gripped the brim. Severus shut his eyes in anticipation of what was to come. But again, the wave passed and Severus's entire body relaxed. Where had this nausea come from so suddenly? What had he eaten the night before that was causing him such a misfortune? But as much as Severus felt the need to ponder said misfortune, he knew that he had to put such thoughts out of his head. He had enough on his mind that morning as it was.

Severus forced himself to his feet, dabbed the sweat from his forehead with a towel, and then went back into his bedchamber. The room was still very dark, save for the one small window which gave way to the unrelenting light of the morning sun. Why did it seem that the sun had chosen to rise much too early that day? There were probably hundreds in the castle who would welcome this. But it was nothing more than a nuisance to the ailing Potions master. He really could have used a bit more sleep. Severus dressed at a relatively slow pace as to not further agitate his stomach, choosing to sit on the edge of his bed as he pulled on his robes and buttoned up his frock coat. And it was here that he remained until he felt that his rebellious insides would allow him to carry on with his morning. As he left his bedroom, headed for the sitting room that led to the main door, Severus made a mental note to brew an Anti-nausea Potion if his stomach hadn't settled by nightfall.

**~HP~**

Albus watched with a smile as his young pupils enjoyed their breakfast, whether it be sluggish from an early rousing or excited to begin this new day. The headmaster's joy was doubled by the quiet, chipper conversations of the teachers around him. To his right, Pomona Sprout was gabbing away with Filius Flitwick as the little wizard stirred a third spoonful of sugar into his tea. To his left, Minerva McGonagall and Remus Lupin were engrossed in a discussion over their morning coffee and a copy of the _Daily Prophet._ Life looked to be well on the path of returning to the way things should be. In that moment, completely satisfied with where he was, the elderly wizard decided yet again that retirement could wait.

He wasn't fazed when he noticed Severus enter through the side door. However, he was a bit taken aback when he looked up to see the Potions master's sallow face. He was a sickly white and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Albus followed Severus's black eyes as they traveled up and down the table and came to see that the only available seat was between Minerva and Remus. Severus silently growled, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. He then slowly walked over and sat down. Minerva greeted him with a nod of her head, but Remus turned right to him with bright, amber eyes.

"How are you this morning, Severus?" he asked, reaching for a second helping of scrambled eggs. The overpowering smell threatened to turn Severus's stomach again, causing him to take a breath in hopes of easing it away. "I don't believe that's any of your business," he said, not looking at the werewolf. "What possessed you to think it was, Lupin?"

"It's just courtesy," Remus raised his eyebrows. "When have you ever known me to be rude?"

"When have you ever known me to take joy in your presence?" Severus glared at Remus out of the corner of his eye. His low growl was laced with venom. Why in the name of Merlin did this man feel the need to even attempt to be friendly with him? And why the hell did he have to be so chipper that early?

"Hmm…what's got your wand in a knot?" Remus asked this as his eyebrow twitched up.

Severus snarled as he reached for a few pieces of toast, the only thing that his meager appetite would allow. "I think the question is what hasn't."

"What are you talking about, Severus? It's a lovely day and everyone is in a good mood."

"All horrendously irritating," Severus bit and ripped off a bit of toast. He chewed with aggravated force before swallowing hard. "And you being a morning person does absolutely nothing to brighten my day."

"Well forgive my enthusiasm, Severus," Remus bantered as he carefully buttered his own toast. Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes. "But times are changing for the better. I'm thrilled just to have a job, let alone a job I enjoy."

Severus shook his head. "It's astounding that the Ministry would allow such a mangy mongrel around children. I'm surprised that you're trusted with that baby of yours…oh wait, perhaps you're not." The Potions master raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

Remus sighed. "I have to make a living to support my son, and that's not easy when you're a single parent. He's better off with his grandmother for now."

"Of course, he is," Severus sneered. "And who knows how the wolf would react to a months-old baby."

"Unless you have been planning on tampering with my Wolfsbane Potion, we shall never know."

Yet again, Remus chuckled in a way that made Severus's skin crawl. His knuckles turned white as his fist clenched on his knee. He felt the vein in his head throbbing with sheer temper and intolerance for this conversation. It only got worse when that tension gave way to a new wave of nausea. Severus had to swallow hard as his mouth began to fill with saliva. He looked to Remus.

"When, Lupin, will you finally understand that I take no joy in you or your _light humor?_"

"Come now, Severus," Remus said as he poured out a cup of coffee for Severus. "I know that we have had an unpleasant past, and I'm sure that we both have done things we have come to regret. But I think it's time that we left all that behind and start over."

"I never cared for you before, and it's quite possible that I care even less for you now." Severus slowly shook his head before sipping his coffee. He closed his eyes against the harsh taste of bark, feeling the color draining from his face.

"Severus," he heard Albus say from down the table. "Are you alright?" Severus looked up to see that the headmaster's question had gotten Minerva's attention. She set down her teacup as she studied his face.

"Quite so," Severus quickly answered, lying through his teeth.

Remus's smile faded away, his eyes fixed on Severus's face. "Are you sure about that? You look a bit peaky."

"They're right, Severus," Minerva gently felt Severus's forehead with the back of her hand, likely checking for a fever. Severus swatted her hand away, now quite annoyed. He dunked his half-eaten toast into his coffee, forcing himself to take another bite.

"Minerva, I'm alright. Leave me be."

"I trust your word, Severus, but are you absolutely sure?" Albus leaned over the table to look past Minerva. "I wouldn't want you to be teaching when you are not feeling well."

"Your concern touches me," Severus mocked. He stood up, deciding that he needed to return to the quiet of the dungeons. If anything, he needed to get away from Dumbledore. Severus knew all too well that this little concern could quickly become a sick need to mother him, and that was the last thing he needed at the moment. He looked at the headmaster, taking a last bite of toast. "Contrary to what some might believe, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Very well, my dear boy," said Albus, his eyes twinkling with his optimistic smile. "But if there is anything I can do, don't hesitate to let me know."

Severus rolled his eyes as he picked up his cup of coffee. As he turned to leave the Great hall, Remus looked up and said, "Good luck today!" But Severus couldn't be bothered to offer up a reply. Instead, he slowly walked out of the side door, ignoring the curious stares of his fellow teachers.

Severus rubbed at his forehead, already feeling an ache coming on. He took a long sip of his coffee, like that was going to help. It sent shivers down his body, and the taste of bark lingered in his mouth. He felt his innards clenching up. He swallowed hard, wishing that it would rid him of this damn indigestion. The thought of the Sixth year class he would be teaching within the hour did nothing to ease his body or his mind. Now, he just hoped that he felt better by lunchtime. At least then, he could be nasty to people purely for his own bitterness, and he wouldn't have to lie to Dumbledore about his wellbeing.

Could this be the longest day of his life?

**~HP~**

Harry and Ron were among the first of the Gryffindors to arrive at the Great Hall at lunchtime. While some of their younger counterparts were already a bit tuckered out, the two young men were quite relaxed. With no elective classes to worry about, they now had the rare privilege of long breaks in between classes. Some called it luck, others chalked it up to being lazy, but neither of them could deny that all that extra free time was more than enticing. Besides, it wasn't like it was crucial to take those extra classes. After all, since when was a NEWT in Arithmancy needed to become an Auror?

They had barely gotten into their meals when Hermione floated in, a satisfied smile gracing her face. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron's face relaxing. No doubt that his being was swelling with masculine pride. The ginger wizard suddenly disappeared under the table, and then reappeared on the other side as Hermione settled down. He leaned over to retrieve his plate. Harry quickly glanced away as Hermione planted a light peck on Ron's lips. It was then that he noticed Rose walking up to them. She sat down next to him, setting her bag down on the floor.

"Oh, isn't that cute?" she said, noticing the couple across from her. Hermione pulled away from Ron and blushed as she reached for a plate of ham sandwiches.

"Be careful who you joke with, Rose," said Ron, obviously joking himself. "You could get yourself into trouble."

Rose snickered and also picked up a sandwich. "Please, we're allowed to poke fun at friends from time to time."

"Further evidence of suppressed bitchery,"

Rose just waved him off. "I'm a catch. Speaking of bitchery, did you see the way Pansy Parkinson was glaring at Hermione in Charms? Bloody hell, if looks could kill –,"

"I would still be alive!"

Harry couldn't stop himself from spitting out his pumpkin juice, spraying it all across the table. Surrounding students laughed, though whether it was at Harry or Hermione's comment was anyone's guess. Rose, who was laughing in near hysteria, reached into her robes and pulled out her wand. A swish produced a cloth napkin to sop up the offending liquid. Ron and Hermione lifted up their plates and goblets as to not hinder the quick cleanup.

"Hermione, that was brilliant," said Rose. "Did you just make that up?" Hermione couldn't hide her playful smirk as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"No doubt about it now. She's a genius," Harry coughed. He brought forth his own wand and banished the damp napkin after Rose tossed it aside.

For some time, they continued to laugh at Hermione's cheeky remark. But then Rose suddenly turned her head and looked over her shoulder. "Oh crap! You don't think she heard that, do you?" She was looking toward the Slytherin table. She picked out Pansy sitting with Draco Malfoy a way's down, a sour pout etched into her face. Harry also turned to look. "I would say that she looks annoyed, but then again, when has she not looked like that?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Rose sounded bitterly sarcastic. "Perhaps when she's taking joy in our misfortune?"

"Speak for yourself," said Ron.

Rose arched her eyebrow. For a girl with a gentle face, it had a way of making her look as sly as any fox, and her friends found it rather intriguing. "Oh yeah, like you and Harry don't know what that's like," she said. "At least Malfoy looks a bit of a sad-sack lately."

The former Death Eater in question was currently sitting across from Gregory Goyle, Pansy's face glued to his shoulder. At the moment, he seemed to be more interested in his beef stew than whatever conversation they were having. His face was devoid of any recognizable emotion, and his thin lips barely moved when he spoke. Harry couldn't help but smirk. Rose was right; Malfoy did look quite pathetic compared to his former self. And frankly, it was shocking that he was even there to begin with. With his tarnished name and shattered dignity, Hogwarts should have been the last place for him to go willingly. And yet there he was! By that point, Harry had long decided that Draco Malfoy was no longer his problem, and he was more than content to ignore him when possible.

They were still looking at the three Slytherins when Pansy finally noticed them. She shot them an evil little sneer. Seeing this herself, Rose pretended to shudder as they turned back to Ron and Hermione. "Say, did it suddenly get cold in here?"

"Ooh, I have had enough of her attitude," Hermione growled.

Harry cocked his head and said, "A bitch is a bitch, I suppose."

"She's jealous of us."

Rose jumped in her seat as Lavender seemed to appear out of nowhere with Parvati not far behind. She looked up at them from over her shoulder. "That's a bold accusation, Lav. And one that Parkinson wouldn't admit to under an Unforgivable."

"It's probably true, though." Parvati wagged a finger at the red haired witch. Rose wagged her own finger in return. "It doesn't make it any less petty."

"Will you all just quit it?" Neville's voice echoed down from where he sat with Dean and Seamus. "She's not worth it."

It was words of wisdom from the modest Longbottom. The girls rather reluctantly dropped the subject with one last quick glance at the Slytherin table. But before Lavender and Parvati could sit, they caught sight of Hermione and Ron. Lavender's lips seemed to suddenly take on the appearance of a straight line as she tossed locks of blonde hair behind her shoulder. Rose got her attention by snapping her fingers. When Lavender looked down at her, she pointed down the table, silently reminding her friend that it was best that the girls kept their distance. Lavender seemed to get the message and led Parvati away, settling down at a comfortable distance to listen in on their housemates.

"So Rose, what did you think of that Professor Wicker?" Hermione asked.

"I like her," said Rose, picking at her chips. "She's a nice lady, and she seems to be a good teacher."

"You say that like Muggle Studies is a difficult class," Harry teased. He knew that Muggle Studies had been Rose's best and favorite class for nearly her entire school career.

"Well Potter, it can be to the generally thick and chronically ignorant." Rose subtly motioned to Goyle, and Harry briefly thought that she was looking out of the corner of her blue eye at one Seamus Finnigan.

Hermione softly cleared her throat. "She doesn't follow the same teaching style as Professor Burbage, does she?"

Rose frowned. "No, not really. Then again, Professor Burbage will not be easily replaced."

Hermione offered an apologetic and reverent pause in honor of the murdered teacher. Harry and Ron also chose not to speak. Charity Burbage left behind many loved ones, and Rose was counted among the students she befriended and inspired. The woman helped put Rose on a path to a career, and out of the respect for the mentoring friendship, they all thought that it was wise to not openly speak of it in her presence.

Rose shook her head, almost like she was shaking off the conversation.

"Yes, well, she will be missed," she said. "Life goes on."

"Say Rose," Dean leaned in over the table to look at her. "I've been meaning to ask you. What goes on in NEWT level Muggle Studies? I mean, you're the only one of us left in the class. Enlighten us a bit."

Rose shrugged; she was getting a bit bored with satisfying the curiosities of her fellow Gryffindors about the oh-so-mysterious world of Hogwarts' cupcake class. "If I knew for sure, I would tell you. I have heard a few rumors about driving and firearms, but I don't believe any of it."

"Yeah, like they'd want to take the risk of Peeves getting a hold of a gun," Dean laughed as he reached for a handful of chips.

Rose raised her eyebrows with an amused smile. "Oh shit, I didn't even think of that."

"Why? What could happen?" asked Neville. Rose, along with Harry, Hermione, and Dean, turned to him. The same horrible image had seemed to flash through their minds at the same time. "You don't want to know," they warned together.

"It still seems like a waste of bloody time to me," said Ron, referring to Muggle Studies.

"Well, maybe if you can just muster up enough Muggle sensitivity, then perhaps you would think differently." It occurred to Rose that that might have been the wrong thing to say when she saw a certain look of utter irritation in Hermione's eyes. Suddenly feeling the burn of a protective girlfriend, she tried to defuse the situation before her brilliant friend could add her opinion. "You know, my mum thinks that it's such a bizarre class. She can't seem to stop herself from asking me why I keep taking it year after year."

"Well, she's a Muggle. Of course she would think that," Harry added before he chomped down on his sandwich.

The conversation turned to relative small talk, interrupted by sparse eating. Harry was made to endure an onslaught of inquiries as to when the Quidditch try-outs would be; everything from people shouting above the hum of voices to little notes travelling down the table to his plate. The number of times he repeated his answer of _I-don't-know-yet _was rather absurd. Much to Hermione's annoyance, Rose got caught up in gossip with Lavender and Parvati as she flipped through her regular copy of _Witch Weekly. _Quill in hand, she marked off an item here or there in the shopping section (all magnificent, but much too expensive) as she listened to Lavender's high voice go on about her growing interest in Justin Finch-Fletchly.

"He is just the perfect gentleman," she smiled. "I mean, he opens doors for me, and did you see him carry my books to Charms for me?"

"Mm-hmm," Rose nodded as she drew a star next to a picture of a charming green jacket.

"Do you think that means something?" Lavender's eyes lit up as she leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands.

"It seems to me that he fancies you, Lavender. You don't need me to tell you that."

"Or me," Parvati added with a certain shake of her head. Rose noticed Hermione roll her eyes and struggled to hold in her laughter. Lavender continued to giggle to herself, prompting Hermione to mime a retch. But before Rose could try to stop the foolishness, Lavender stood up and gathered her things. She explained to the girls that Justin had promised to meet her in the courtyard after lunch, and then bid them goodbye. She dashed off through the doors.

"I stand by what I said yesterday, those two will be snogging within a month," said Rose, making the others laugh.

"Hey, does anyone remember what we've got next class?" Ron asked, having not memorized his schedule and apparently too lazy to pull it out of his bag. Seamus yanked his timetable out of his trouser pocket and looked down the crumpled parchment. His face fell.

"Oh hell, we've all got Potions next," he groaned. Quite a few joined him, Hermione nearly scowling at their attitude. Harry thought it was wise to keep his own opinions to himself in favor of preventing another talking-to. Beside him, Rose simply went back to picking out clothes she wished she could have. Beside her, Neville was shaking his head.

"It isn't fair. I get accepted to the Auror training program, I decide to take Potions again to get ahead, and then I find out that Snape's teaching it again. It just isn't fair!"

"Aw Neville, you can't _still _be afraid of him," Harry teased.

"Shut up, Harry. You saw him last night. He didn't look any less intimidating."

"Won't know for sure until you get there, will you?" suggested Hermione.

"I don't know, Hermione," said Seamus "I've been asking around and it doesn't sound too good."

"What do you mean?" asked Rose, nibbling on a ketchup-covered chip.

"Word around the school is that Snape is far worse than he was before." Seamus stopped to practically inhale half a sausage and chewed rapidly. "I heard he took fifteen points from some Ravenclaw just for sneezing during his lecture. And look how much Hufflepuff has lost already."

A quick look at the four house hourglasses showed that half of all the amber stones of Hufflepuff had gone since that morning. Harry suddenly found himself with a slight sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Oh please, that can't all be from him," said Rose, prompting a nod from Hermione.

"Are you talking about Professor Snape?" Luna had suddenly appeared behind Neville and Rose. Rose looked up with wrinkled eyebrows while Neville smiled. Luna leaned down and gave him a little kiss before setting down next to him. Harry noticed that Rose did not look very amused to be squashed between him and Neville, so he courteously shifted down the bench, giving her room to breathe.

"Oh Luna, you already had Snape this morning," said Hermione, reaching for her goblet of pumpkin juice. She took a meager sip. "What happened in your class?"

"Ah yes, Professor Snape was quite grumpy this morning." Luna's bright eyes fell to the tabletop. "Rather unfortunate actually. The lesson was quite intriguing, but he seemed to spend half his time making sure that we all stayed in line. I wonder what could have Snape so irritated so early in the day."

"I could name a few things," said Ron through a mouthful of ham. He almost snickered when he suddenly got a hard jab in the arm. He looked at Hermione, who was looking rather satisfied with herself. Both Harry and Rose tried and failed to keep their laughter muffled.

"Ron, do yourself a favor and shut your mouth," Rose suggested as she closed her magazine and put it away.

**~HP~**

Severus sat behind his desk in his office, watching the clock with intent as it approached the two o'clock hour. With every minute that ticked by, he could feel an immense tension building up in his head. He ran his fingers through his greasy, black hair as he cradled his head in his hands.

The Potions master groaned when the pain and aching in his head receded. Though that morning's indigestion had faded away, Severus certainly didn't feel any better. If this stress headache wasn't bad enough, it was made so much worse by Severus's sheer exhaustion. It was as though he had not gotten a wink of sleep the night before. And when he remembered that he had two more classes ahead of him, Severus could only imagine how tired he would be by the time he stumbled to bed. The thought of collapsing to the floor raced through his mind.

Naturally, his discomfort had caused Severus's mood to take a turn for the worst. His little spat with Lupin had only been the first of many that day. The rapid, almost comical loss of house points was largely his doing, but Severus had a justifiable reason for every last one. He had been attempting to work on a poor night's sleep and an upset stomach. He felt awful enough without the children there. So every time a student stepped out of line, even in the slightest, it was enough to spike his agitation and send him over the edge. They could call it outlandish all they wanted, it didn't matter. The only person Severus could give a flying fuck about was himself.

Outside in the hallway, Severus could already hear the voices of what surely was his combined class of Seventh years. No doubt that they were gossiping about him and the horror stories they had been hearing. The mere thought made his head pound, causing him to massage his temples. To say that he wasn't looking forward to this class would be a ridiculous understatement. After all, not only was he to be trapped in a room with Potter and the rest of his Dream Team, but he was also going to be forced to teach a great number of students who definitely did not deserve to be there. He had taken a quick look at the roster while at lunch and was appalled. Longbottom? Finnigan? Had Minerva completely lost her mind to actually allow these poor simpletons into his most advanced class, and for no better reason than the politics of it all? It was a catastrophe in the making! And when it came to the Seventh years, as Severus had come to learn over time, they all eventually became one of only two things. They were either overly ambitious, or criminally lazy. Severus's eyes travelled down the accursed roster again, already expecting one or the other out of every single one of the brats. He could have wagered the deed to his house on the probability of Potter or Weasley succumbing to so-called "Seventh Syndrome."

Severus let out a low growl as the bell rang. He pushed himself up out of his chair and slowly walked out into his classroom. He pushed open the door with a scowl. The noise died down as the entire queue turned to him. In those twenty sets of eyes, Severus could see everything from nerves, to loathing, to indifference. He motioned for them to come inside. He then stalked up to the front of the room and took his place behind his desk.

The students began to file in and Snape watched as they chose their seats. Potter and Weasley were sitting together in the middle of the room, like that was a huge surprise. To their right, Granger was sitting with the Beckett girl. Snape noticed that Draco Malfoy had taken a seat at the far end of the room. He looked at the boy and greeted him with a quick nod. Draco did the same with what could have been taken as a half-ass smile. The blonde's short attention was then drawn away as Pansy Parkinson sat next to him, reaching for his hand underneath the desk.

Once they had all taken their seats, Severus looked out on his oldest crop of students with a menacing glare. Just looking at them increased the pain in his head; Potter especially was probably doing a number on his blood pressure. He felt the vein in his temple throbbing again. He waited a few moments before he finally began speaking.

"So here we are… gathered together again for, of all bloody classes, Advanced Potions. If any of you had taken the headmaster's speech to heart last night, you would all be grateful to even be down here. And yet I'm quite sure that to a fair few of you, that could not be any more false. It is my understanding that not one of you is particularly enthused to be here this afternoon." His black eyes drifted over every young face, watching their eyes nervously shift from side to side. "And I doubt that you were any more thrilled when you heard that it was to be me standing before you. Make no mistake; I am no happier to be in your retched presence. I would much rather be subjected to medieval Muggle torture than be forced to interact with the likes of you." He stared down at Potter, who shot him a dirty look in return.

"But in any case, chances are that you all enrolled for the same reason. You enrolled to further your education, broaden your skills, and give yourselves an advantage in the working world. We could spend the term taking shots at each other, though I assure you that would be a grave mistake on your part. I hope that you also realize that doing so would get you absolutely nowhere. You would be defeating your purposes, whatever they might be. I'm sure you like to think of yourselves as adults, so here's a little tip for that. If you truly are adults, then you must accept the horrible truth that you must do what you must do, without pitiful excuses. Now if I could just believe that any of you could follow through with this bit of maturity. I couldn't even dream of a wonder like that."

Snape came around his desk and began to slowly pace up and down the rows of desks. "Now, the decision to enroll in this class should not have been taken lightly. This being the final year of your education, I trust you know that the potions you will brew in this class will be the most complex of anything you have come across before in your lives." He saw that Granger was fidgeting in her seat. He then noticed how Potter and Weasley seemed to be purposely avoiding eye contact. He suppressed the urge to publically accuse them of illegally brewing the Polyjuice Potion in the past. "Successfully passing this class would ensure that you would be able to brew just about anything you could possibly need in your day to day lives. But it would take an exceptional idiot to not know that in order to achieve this, you need to have dedication and skill. And I'm sorry to say that a rather alarming number of you possess no such talent."

His glare fell on Neville Longbottom. Almost instantly, the color seemed to drain from the boy's face. Snape just couldn't resist; he stalked closer to him "It is truly disappointing that the lot of you were allowed to return to my Potions class. Believe me when I say that if I had things my way, if these postwar, victory-induced politics hadn't gotten in the way, more than half of you would be gone." He stopped right next to Longbottom, leaning closer with every snarling word, forcing the nervous Gryffindor to retreat further back into his seat. "No doubt that you entered my class thinking that it was for your own good. But in doing so, you severely underestimate your own abilities. You think you've done a good thing, but all you will have done is make a mockery of the art of potion making. Even now, I look at your faces and see nothing more than a clumsy, incompetent waste of my _time!_"

His barking comment was followed by a sudden crash. Longbottom had fallen backwards out of his chair and hit the cold dungeon floor, having failed to grasp the desk in time. Snape backed away, letting the whelp get up. The rest of the class was trying to stop their impulsive laughter, some hiding their smirks and giggles behind their hands. "Silence…" Snape growled as Longbottom sat back down. He glanced around the room, making sure that every last student was quiet. His glare fell on three way too familiar faces. The tension in his head began to rise again, pain radiating through his skull.

"And then there are those who have skill, but let their egos get in the way." He came to a stop in the aisle that separated Weasley from his overachieving girlfriend. Snape looked at the two girls who looked up at him with frozen expression. He noticed Rose Beckett quickly swallow. "I cannot deny that some of you seem to have half a brain cell for the subject. You brew what you are told to with no real trouble, giving you the right to brag to your unfortunate classmates. But mark my words; your pride just might be your downfall."

He turned his head to stare down at the Boy-who-lived. He felt an agonizing heat building up in his chest at the sight of those emerald eyes. "Nothing is more vile than a second rate brat who revels in miniscule glory. I don't care how wonderful you think you are; there is a very fine line between dignity and arrogance. And one thing I will _not _tolerate is arrogance. Such useless confidence has not gotten you anywhere before, and it never will. Consider that a fair warning, all of you!"

Snape turned around and walked back up to the front of the room, ignoring Potter's obvious desire to snap at him. He turned back to face the rest of the class. "Now, let it be known that I will only say this once. In recent weeks, you all have come to find out certain information about me. I know what has been said about me, and I am more than aware of your varying opinions. But in this room, none of that has any relevance. My experiences are, and will stay a personal matter, and no amount of postwar merriment can affect me in any way that concerns you. No matter who you are, I am not, nor have I ever been your friend. I have always treated my students as they deserved, and the same holds true today. And if any of you come to me wanting to know the truth behind _The_ _Prophet's _stories, it will merely be a pointless act of poor judgment. You will find that you will have only wasted time and house points. If you want a war story, your man is right there." He pointed at Potter, turning all eyes on him. The boy ran his hand over his messy hair, as though he wanted to flatten it over his glasses, further obscuring his green eyes.

The Potions master stood before his class in silence. His head was pounding once again, and he almost struggled to breathe past the tension and burning in his chest. He felt worse now than he did before the class started. It was as though Snape was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at the first foolish cheek. And for his own sake, Snape hoped that Potter had enough sense to stay good and quiet. He took a moment to try to calm himself down before he turned to the board.

"Very well, let us now get to what you are actually here for. If you would open your books to page –,"

_*Cough, cough*_

That did it; Snape whipped around with a fierce snarl. "Five points from Gryffindor, Mister Thomas, for interrupting my lesson!"

"Sir, he just –,"

"Ten points, Miss Patil!"

"But Professor Snape –,"

"Would you like to make it twenty points, Miss Granger?"

The girl shrank back. "No sir," she said quietly.

"Then shut up and turn to page two hundred and thirty nine."

The room was filled with the sound of violently turning pages when Snape heard the Slytherins giggling in the corner. He turned to them with the same aggression. "That goes for you too!" A couple of them jumped in their seats before they too opened their books.

**~HP~**

Harry and his friends were among the first to leave the dungeon classroom, leading the way to the stairway up to the ground floor. Skin and robes dampened with sweat, they were all more than a bit eager to get back up to the fresh air. After being put in their places so sternly, they spent the remainder of the class brewing the Invigoration Draught. Some of their attempts ended in failure, though many managed to scrape by, Harry and Ron included. Hermione, of course, had produced a perfect potion with Rose not that far behind. In fact, the girls had finished a good fifteen minutes ahead of everyone else.

Snape's attitude had not improved as the class went on. It seemed he had indeed returned to his cruel, sarcastic ways after all. Not only that, he had gotten worse! In one hour, he had personally insulted a fair number of people, and all four houses had lost points. Even Slytherin had lost ten points when Goyle burned a hole through the bottom of his cauldron.

They were barely out of the Potions room when Ron sighed loudly as he walked hand in hand with Hermione. He wiped perspiration from his forehead. "Merlin, what was that?"

"That, my friend, was possibly one of the most rigid Potions lessons we've sat through." Harry shook his head with wide eyes.

"No kidding!" said Rose as she passed Harry. "I thought Neville had stopped breathing for a moment there, like Snape was going to take five points for an exhale during an instruction."

"I can't believe he took away points just because Dean coughed," Hermione pouted. "Ridiculous! I mean, who would have thought that Seamus was right? Luna maybe, but not Seamus."

"Sometimes things like that are too stupid to make up," Rose suggested. "And besides, no one could have predicted Snape being that bad. Really, taking points for something as uncontrollable as a cough!"

"Maybe we just saw Snape at his lowest," said Ron.

"Oh, I'd beg to differ!" Harry sighed.

Seamus and Dean came up behind the little group. "So, he's a changed man, is he?" the Irishman said to Hermione as he passed by.

Hermione groaned. "Alright, perhaps I was wrong." She swiped a hand through the air as her classmates dashed down the hall.

"Perhaps?" Ron laughed, pulling her in closer to his body.

"Alright, alright!" Hermione barked out for everyone to hear so she wouldn't be made to repeat herself. "I was wrong and you were right. Are you happy now?"

Ron wrinkled his eyebrows. "I don't know, is there a right answer to that question?"

"Well either way, we're still screwed," Harry rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he nodded in Rose's direction. The ginger witch smiled and shrugged in agreement. "Ah Harry," she said. "Now comes the part when we all buck up, bite our tongues, and deal with it."

"I can do that," said Harry. "But if you ask me, Snape should buck up and pull that stick out of his arse."

"Yeah mate," Ron agreed. "If he keeps at it like that, nobody will have a chance at the House Cup."

"Oh Ron, don't be silly," Hermione playfully scolded.

"I'm with her on that one, Weasley," said Rose.

"Harry, what is it about women that makes them agree about everything?" The little group laughed among themselves as they climbed the steps up to the ground floor.

**~HP~**

_**I hope you enjoyed this new chapter, and reviews are always welcome. Reviews are good, very good indeed!**_


	5. The hair trigger

_**Disclaimer:**__** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**~HP~**

Two miraculous weeks of glorious sunshine had passed when a sudden, massive rainstorm swept through the Scottish countryside. It had announced itself to the Hogwarts population with a spectacular lighting show during dinner, and it became apparent as the night wore on that this would not be a quick little cloudburst. The loud, crashing thunder helped solidify that in everyone's minds. While more than one of the First years went to bed missing their mothers, their older peers were haunted by the prospect of the terrible weather ahead of them. After all, when was a class ever cancelled on account of rain?

The storm continued on all through the night. And when the morning did finally come, the sun was blocked out by dark, foreboding clouds.

Severus awoke to the darkness that still filled his chambers. Any hopes of dozing off for a few more minutes were stolen away when he was overcome by the same nausea that had been plaguing him on and off for days. But this time, it was far worse than ever before. He grasped his stomach as his muscles clenched, preventing him from getting up. He did eventually manage to force himself up to sit on the side of the bed, but the pain did not let up. It held onto his insides with an iron-clad fist. Beads of sweat formed on his pale forehead as he attempted to breathe it away. But yet again, he had no such luck.

He looked up to watch the heavy raindrops beating against the window when he felt the room begin to spin. He felt woozy as he gripped his sheets, his heart racing. He also noticed an odd taste that seemed to suddenly appear, filling his mouth with saliva. Rumbles of thunder bounced off the castle walls.

Just then, a horrible burn shot up his throat. Severus bolted for the bathroom, his hand clasped over his mouth. The door crashed against the wall as he fell to his knees before the porcelain bowl. His thin arms wrapped around his torso as he gave up last night's meal. With each retch, his throat burned and his eyes stung with forming tears. His whole body went stiff, surrendering to the vomiting, and all his muscles tensed with every agonizing spasm. When the heaving finally stopped, Severus fell back onto his behind, leaning his back against the bathtub.

He should have known this would happen. Two weeks of early morning nausea; he had to actually get sick eventually. But why did he have to hold on to that hope that he would be fine when clearly he was not?

A second wave of nausea forced him back over the toilet. Every dizzying spasm seemed to set his throat on fire. His eyes squeezed shut as he heaved, and he had no control over the tears that spilled down his face. The retching only stopped when there was nothing left in his stomach to give up. Severus rested his sweaty forehead against the brim of cool stone, desperately trying to stop himself from outright sobbing. There was no way in hell he was going to allow himself to be reduced to a blubbering mess again.

In time, his breath slowed as he calmed himself. Severus managed to force himself to his feet, grasping the sink for support. He rinsed out his mouth thoroughly with water; that revolting taste could end up making him sick again. As the waves seemed to have receded, Severus went about his ordinary business. He couldn't even consider the thought of forgoing his classes in favor of lying in. In the past, he had been in far worse conditions and still had the strength and stubbornness to do his job. Who was he to let this keep him down?

**~HP~**

Dumbledore looked up as Severus slowly strode into the Great Hall. He was almost jolted by the younger man's outward appearance. True, Severus never was the picture of perfect health. But this was something else entirely. The man was pale, far too pale. It almost looked like the life had been drained from his face and his expression subtly and unintentionally gave away that something was wrong. He also looked rather weak as he eased down into a chair in such a way that made Severus seem twice his relatively young age.

The headmaster watched as Severus reached for a measly piece of toast. But instead of nibbling at it like he had done for the past several mornings, Severus just let it sit on his plate, showing no interest in eating whatsoever. This disturbed Albus, but he knew better than to confront the Potions master with students nearby. Now if only other staff members could understand that as well as he did. Really, they ought to know Severus by now.

He noticed Remus walk in the side door and head over to an empty seat beside Severus. "Good morning, Severus," he said as he sat down. The werewolf helped himself to a bowl of oatmeal. But when the smell wafted over to the pale Potions master, Severus turned his head away. His eyes were pressed shut.

"I thought that I made it quite clear to you, Lupin. No morning is tolerable enough to be called _good_."

Remus tried to hide his offence behind a sip of coffee, and he piled a few slices of bacon onto his plate. "Now Severus, don't you think that this is a bit absurd? You've been going at me since term began. Surely you know that we can't go on like this forever."

"Is that so?" Severus sneered. "I wonder if you ever passed such words of wisdom on to Black."

"Sirius wasn't much better than you, but that certainly didn't stop me from trying."

Remus waited for response, but Severus simply shook his head, his lip twitching. He leaned on the tabletop and rested his chin in his hand. The DADA professor decided that he would have to leave it alone for now. He briefly turned the other way to ask Flitwick for the nearest dish of butter. When he came back around to grab a bit of toast, he noticed the completely untouched slice on Severus's plate. Then his eyes travelled up to his face.

"Oi, Severus, you look terrible!" he said. "You look like you didn't sleep at all last night."

"Why would you care if I did or did not?"

"I'm sorry, but pardon my observation. Merlin's beard, have you looked in a mirror today? You're really pale."

"That's something new?" Severus's sarcasm was biting and bitter even to Dumbledore, who continued to eavesdrop from his seat.

"No, I'm serious," Remus urged. "You're as white as a ghost. Are you feeling alright?"

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

"Severus…" Remus warned.

The Potions master snarled, baring his teeth. "I'm as well as I can be. Now leave it at that, and it would be unwise to ask me again!" Severus raised his voice to the other teachers, who he suddenly noticed had taken to watching this quarrel from the relative safety of their seats. He saw Cassandra Wicker shrink back into her chair. He then turned his attention back to Remus with a cocked eyebrow.

"I apologize if you find my concerns annoying," said Remus. "Unlike _some_, I happen to care about the welfare of others."

Severus glared at him, his dark eyes thinning into slits. "Your lying is no better than theirs." Severus motioned to the students, blissfully and thankfully unaware of the conflict between the two professors.

Remus sighed with frustration, tapping the tabletop with one finger. "Alright Severus; if you are going to continue with being ridiculously difficult, then I suppose there's not much I can do to change your mind. But if by chance you come around, my offer still stands. I'll be around if you want to talk sometime, even if that's just to vent about Harry."

"A boy you would defend as if he were your own son!" Severus snapped, clenching his fist tightly. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, Lupin. I am not your friend, and I never will be. So, if I were you, I would give up this pity parade while I still can."

"Or what?" Remus dared to ask.

Severus turned to him, black eyes burning with utter aggravation. "Don't try me, you mangy mutt. You wouldn't want me to bring your son into this, would you?"

Quiet gasps were heard as Remus stared with wide eyes. He had heard from foul things muttered from the former Death Eater's thin lips, but that was a whole new low that he was unprepared for. Severus, though still snarling, seemed satisfied with himself. The werewolf forced a little laugh. "You are a fine piece of work, you know? I try to show you a _little bit _of kindness, and you want to bicker like we're still fifteen years old. If anything, you ought to appreciate that people even want you in their company."

"In case it's missed you, I've gotten along alright on my own."

"You're still human though. Believe me Severus, there is only so long that a person can live like you do." Remus crunched down on a slice of bacon.

Just then, Severus stood up, his breath suddenly getting deeper. The deathly pale shade of his face was replaced by a faint tint of green. Remus swallowed as he looked up with a wrinkled brow. "What? Is something wrong?" Concern began to creep back into his voice.

"No, I just remembered something I had to do." Severus sounded a bit desperate as his eyes shifted about the room. "Excuse me." He walked over to the side door, eyes following his every step. But as he pushed the door open to leave, he swallowed hard and his hand gravitated to his mouth. Then he dashed out into the hall and quickly disappeared.

Teachers all down the table were exchanging looks of confusion. More than a few heads turned to the headmaster, who was slowly shaking his head as he looked to the still-open door.

"Pardon my asking, but is Severus always like that?" asked Cassandra, tucking strands of brown hair behind her ear.

"Clearly, you don't know Severus Snape, dear," said Pomona Sprout, stirring a lump of sugar into her second cup of coffee.

"Well, I've heard that he wasn't the most pleasant of wizards in Britain, but that was a bit more than I was expecting. Really Remus, how could he even consider threatening you with your young child?"

"Think of it this way, Cassandra. It's not you," said Remus. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

"But he has been particularly nasty lately. You can't deny that," Flitwick pointed out. "Is it just me, or did he look like he was about to be sick for a moment there?"

"No Filius, I agree with you," said Albus. "I do hope the poor boy is alright." The headmaster was careful not to give away the depths of his concerns. He didn't want to unintentionally bestow far too much unwanted attention on Severus. He turned to speak to Minerva, but he was surprised to find that she had vanished from her seat and the hall.

**~HP~**

Wiping his mouth on the cuff of his sleeve, Severus came out of the tiny bathroom at the far end of the staffroom. He let out a weak sigh as he clutched his stomach. That last bout of sickness had done very little to relieve him of this gut-twisting misery. He swallowed the saliva quickly filling his mouth and decided that he once again needed the Anti-nausea Potion he had stashed away in his office, more desperately now than ever. He started for the door, dark eyes skimming across the stone floor. But he stopped in his tracks when his gaze fell on the hem of a dark green dress. He slowly looked up until he found himself staring into the square glasses of Minerva McGonagall.

"So you're fine, are you?" she said, crossing her arms.

Severus groaned; why did the old witch have to follow him and hear him retching? "Leave me alone, Minerva."

"Severus, you can't pretend that you're alright when clearly you are not."

"I can take care of myself."

Severus fell back into a low armchair next to the fireplace. Minerva crossed the room and sat down on a nearby sofa, facing the younger man. "I have my doubts about that," she said. "How long have you been getting sick?"

"Since I got up this morning," shrugged Severus.

"And other than this retching, is there anything else that I need to know about?"

"Since when were you my mother?"

Minerva rolled her eyes with a sigh. "I hardly consider this to be mothering. I merely want to ensure that you are well enough to teach."

"If that's all you are worried about, then you will be relieved to know that I have a potion in my office."

"Alright Severus," Minerva nodded. "But if you're not well by tomorrow, I would advise you to see Poppy."

"I don't need Mediwitches," Severus held a pale hand out to her. "I just have some kind of virus. It will pass, I'm sure."

"If you say so," Minerva shook her head. "But I can't help but worry about you sometimes, Albus too. With all that's happened here, we had hoped that you would settle easily back into a routine."

"For your information, I have. I just have a great number of idiots to get around."

"Remus means well," said the elderly witch as she rested a hand on the Potions master's knee. "And he means it when he says that he wants a better working relationship with you. He owes a lot to you, you know."

"Not as much as he owes to Potter, and I don't see him falling to his knees before him."

"But even so, you shouldn't be so harsh on him. I understand if you don't feel well, but that is no excuse to pick a fight. I agree with Remus; that was rather childish on your part."

Severus groaned, despite himself. "Minerva, listen to me. You and Dumbledore seem determined to get everyone involved in this postwar joy that the world greatly desires. But did either of you consider where I came from, what I went through?" He gave Minerva a moment to answer, but found the room still uncomfortably filled with silence. "I didn't think so. You Gryffindors are all the same. You all want life to return to some sense of normalcy in the blink of an eye. Those simpering brats are no better. Don't think that I haven't noticed Potter, Granger, and their ginger shadows parading around the school, walking examples of such nonsense. But you should know by now that I want no part in that."

"You never fail to puzzle me, Severus," said Minerva. "If you want no part, then why did you return to your post?" It was a question that she had been meaning to ask him since the afternoon Albus sent her a letter telling her about the younger wizard's acceptance.

"Did you think that I would let the Dark Lord drive me away from society? I'm like any wizard on the street; I need to make a living and – as too many have so annoyingly put it – get on with my life. But I don't need to be hassled by you, Lupin, or anyone else. My life has been difficult enough without people trying to force themselves down my throat. For the sake of my sanity, please don't coddle me."

Minerva was taken aback by the quiet begging. Her brow wrinkled in utter sympathy. It was obvious to her that Severus had been in poor health for quite some time, that morning aside. She knew this when she saw him on the first night of the new term, the first time she had seen him since late May. He had more than enough time to heal up after such a harrowing ordeal, and it disturbed her that he still looked so tired and peaky. The old woman would also have to be deaf to not notice the whispers about his unusually short temper. And yet it took a weak, almost desperate plea for Minerva to really understand the weight of Severus's situation.

She sighed as she leaned forward to gently pat a white hand. "I'm sorry, Severus," she said. She didn't want to get into any grave detail; it would only irritate Severus more to have to put up with what he would deem to be senseless pity. But still, given his current state, she felt a compulsion to try to provide the Potions master with a little help. "I can tell Remus to leave you alone, if that is what you want."

Severus snarled, however feebly, as he eased up out of the chair. "I don't need you to handle my personal affairs. If anyone is going to tell Lupin to bugger off, it's going to be me."

As Minerva rose from her seat, she realized that the color had begun to drain out of Severus's face again. He wrapped an arm around his torso, taking deep breaths in. The elderly witch tapped him on the shoulder. "I believe you should go take that potion of yours."

Severus's eyes quickly shifted to her before he nodded. He turned to the door, but before he could exit the room and escape back to his dungeon hideout, Minerva spoke up. "But I'm quite serious. If this goes on much longer, you should see Poppy." She heard Severus growl deep in his throat as he disappeared out the door. Minerva sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling.

For everyone's sake, she hoped that the answer to this little mess was as simple as an Anti-nausea Potion.

**~HP~**

The Golden Trio walked through the halls together, headed for the dungeons. All three had the same expression of glum lethargy painted on their faces. It hadn't been the brightest of days, in more ways than one. The last few hours had been plagued by stacks of homework, boring lessons, and torrential rain. The break after lunch had been a godsend, even to Hermione, who saw it as an opportunity to jump ahead in her Arithmancy reading while Ron and Harry napped in the common room.

The three of them took their time walking down to the castle's lower levels. They knew of a shorter way to get down there, but that shortcut would take them outside across the courtyard. With the sudden downpours that had been routinely passing through, it would not be the best of ideas to consider that route. Though the rain had momentarily stopped, the risk of walking into Snape's classroom completely drenched was a risk that none of them were willing to take.

At the base of the stairs on the ground floor, they came across a hassled looking Rose furiously reading over a long roll of parchment. Seeing Rose's delicate handwriting through the back of the paper, they all recognized that this was the essay that McGonagall had assigned them two days before. They also knew that it was late. Rose looked up and groaned as her friends approached her.

Rose had not been having the greatest of days. In fact, she could describe that dark, stormy Wednesday as bloody awful. To her, it seemed like everything she did just made her life more stressed and chaotic. It might have been her fault she was miserable, but that wasn't going to stop her from blaming the world. After procrastinating on the Transfigurations assignment, Rose had been forced to stay up until four in the morning to write it, but still left it unfinished. She had fallen asleep at breakfast, and was rudely awakened by Peeves pelting her in the head with what turned out to be a stray walnut. As the morning progressed, Rose developed a massive headache, likely brought on by her sleep deprivation. But it was no ordinary headache; it was dull yet so violently throbbing. The pain was so bad that when they were in Charms, it affected her concentration, and Rose was unable to perform the required spells. This made Flitwick deduct ten points from Gryffindor. The same thing happened in Muggle Studies when Professor Wicker caught her trying to finish her essay rather than paying attention to the lesson. And when she found herself in Transfigurations, she lost ten more points for her continued inability to perform magic caused by her head pain. And after all that, her essay was still not finished. McGonagall decided to give her until the end of classes to hand it in, warning her of the credit she had already lost. Rose had disappeared after that class, choosing to spend lunchtime in the library, sacrificing a good meal for a measly apple. And using the additional break, still nursing her terrible aches, Rose managed to finish the paper. Now she held it in her hands, and now she just wanted to be rid of it.

Rose quickly rolled up the parchment and leaned against the wall. Harry leaned up next to her, looking at the roll in her hands. "So you finally finished it, did you?" he said with a smirk.

"Shove off, Harry," Rose groaned, rubbing her forehead.

"How's your head feeling?" asked Ron.

"Like it's been trampled by a hippogriff,"

Hermione winced as she stepped forward. "Perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey, let her give you something."

"No time for that. I'll make a potion tonight if it doesn't get any better." Rose leaned down to pick up her bag, heavy with books. She kept a controlled grip on the scroll in her hand.

"Well, look who it is! Barmy Beckett!" A shrill voice pierced the air in the hall. Rose's roll of parchment suffered some abuse as she looked up to glare back at Pansy Parkinson, who had just appeared on the arm of Draco Malfoy.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" Rose's soft voice became a low snarl, the same snarl she had taken on a number of times that day.

"What could I possibly want from _you_, a stupid little half-blood?" Pansy let go of Malfoy's arm and stalked over to the little group, stopping when she was mere inches away from Rose's face. "You've got some nerve to even show your face around here after how you shamed yourself in class. You were so bloody awful, it's a wonder they even let you back into this school. You've been hanging around Muggles much too long."

"You ever hear of having a bad day, you prejudiced bi –,"

"Hey, that's enough!" Harry forced himself between the two young women, cutting Rose off and blocking her with his arm. "Leave her alone, Parkinson. Stay away from us," he said to Pansy in his sternest voice. He gently pushed her away from Rose.

"Hands off, Potter!" Malfoy came charging towards them and yanked Pansy out of Harry's reach "Don't you dare touch my girl," he commanded.

"Oh yeah, anything you say Malfoy," Harry answered, viciously sarcastic.

Hermione looked at Pansy with a stare so threatening, it was unnerving to her fellow Gryffindors. The pug-faced Slytherin didn't seem to take her seriously in the least. "You think that you scare me, Granger?" But she still backed off. She began to walk back to her waiting boyfriend. "You know that you won't always have Potter around to defend you. And when he's gone off to better things, what then will you be? Nothing!" They started off down the stairs.

Rose crushed her essay even more before pressing a pale hand to her throbbing head. "Ooh, I want to hurt someone so badly," she growled, more to herself.

"Ignore her," Hermione told Rose, watching the damage that she was inflicting on her homework. "She's just a bitch who wants to kick people when their down."

Rose rolled her eyes. "I could have taken her with my hands tied behind my back." She shifted her tired eyes to look at Harry, a rather weak threat by anyone's standard.

"Ah Rose," sighed Ron. "You're having a rotten day as it is. The last thing you need is to rub Parkinson the wrong way."

Harry glanced to the stairs that the two Slytherins had descended. "I think for her and Malfoy, we do that just by breathing."

Hermione looked down at her watch and saw that they only had ten minutes before Potions. She advised the others that it was a good idea to get walking. But when they reached the stairwell, Rose turned away to walk upstairs. Hermione of course was the first to notice.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Where do you think? I'm going up to hand over this bloody essay." Rose turned around to look at her friends.

"Do you think that you'll make it to Potions in time?" Harry also turned with a concerned wrinkle in his forehead.

"I dunno, but I'll sure try." Rose turned back up, the crumpled roll of parchment still in hand. "I'll be there in a bit, just get going."

"But you know how Snape feels about us being late. And you heard about how he's been testy today. Do you really want to lose more house points?"

"Like I said, Ron, I'll get there as fast as I can." Then as though she wished her feet would grow wings, Rose sprinted up the steps, leaving her three friends in the dust.

**~HP~**

Snape paced back and forth across his office, his arms crossed across his torso. Every so often, he would look up at the clock to watch another minute pass. How he longed for the end of the day to come! He was thoroughly exhausted, his body ached, and his Anti-nausea Potion had stopped working an hour ago. His stomach gave a slow turn every time he glanced up at time ticking by at a snail's pace. And each time he thought about that day's lesson for the Seventh years only made him wonder if throwing up again would help. Severus briefly considered giving into his illness and cancelling his last classes, but further thought reminded him that he couldn't quit that easily. Besides, this was the Seventh years he was dealing with. Of all the students, they were the last ones he wanted to show even the faintest trace of weakness.

The clock struck two, making Severus roll his eyes. He walked back to his desk and grabbed the glass of water he had sitting there. He tilted his head back, swallowing the last drops. He stalked over to the closed door with a shake of his head.

'_Merlin help me…'_

Snape walked out of his office and went right over to his desk. He reached into his robes and grabbed his wand. Sitting down in his hard, wooden chair, he cast a charm on the door. It swung open and stopped short of the wall. The Seventh years all filed in and took their seats, the last one in shutting the door. All of them, even those of Slytherin, were all strangely quiet. Ordinarily, their faces would betray that they had other things on their minds. But instead, they looked at him with pure attention and obedience. Apparently, they had been hearing talk from their younger counterparts again, acutely wary of his_ particularly_ foul mood.

As he observed the class, he noticed the empty seat next to a rather tense Hermione Granger. He ran through the roster in his head, and he came to realize that it was Rosella Beckett who was missing. He sighed; he should have expected this from her eventually. He quickly made a mental note to take off ten points when she actually showed up, or twenty points if she didn't show up at all.

"Good afternoon," he addressed the class. "Turn to page four hundred and six, we shall be discussing –,"

He was cut off by the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wall. He looked up, as did the students. There in the door stood Rose. Her robes looked doused and her hair was dripping slightly. Her books and parchment were damp. The silly girl had obviously gotten caught in the rain. Snape heard some half-ass snickers from the back of the room. He was tempted to laugh himself, but he decided to spare her that. He had other ideas for dealing with her tardiness.

"How nice of you to join us, Miss Beckett," he said to the sopping Gryffindor, making the other students giggle.

"My apologies, Professor, I had other things to attend to. I didn't mean to be late," Rose said, trying to explain herself.

"And why, might I ask, are you soaking wet?"

"I…uh…took a shortcut to get down here faster. I thought I could beat the rain…I was wrong." Most of the students, Gryffindors included, were now openly laughing at their classmate.

"Silence," Snape ordered. The class quieted down. "Miss Beckett, quite frankly, I don't really care if you had other priorities. You should know by now that there is no excuse for lateness. See to it that it doesn't happen again. Ten points from Gryffindor. Now sit down and turn to page four hundred and six." He turned back to the board.

Rose, now quite red-faced with obvious embarrassment, quietly tip-toed her way over to the table where Hermione waited and sat down. She set her books onto the desk top. But before she opened up her Potions book, she pulled a red ribbon from her pocket and tied back her long red hair. Snape saw this out of the corner of his eye. Rose had done that every day at the start of Potions class since the second week of her first year, when she accidentally set her hair on fire while brewing a rather simple potion. Since then, she had taken every precaution to make sure it never happened again. She even did that when they weren't going to be brewing anything in class; she just couldn't risk it. From what Snape had heard from among the students, Rose just couldn't bear with the thought of having lopsided ends for another year. And that apparently was doubly so now, when her hair was at its longest and, as Rose herself put it, in its prime. Snape held back a gag at the idea.

The lesson was the first of many to do with Medical Potions. The only noise that cut through the thick, humid air was the scratching of quills on parchment and the only voice to be heard was Snape's. Though the class remained quiet and attentive, Snape knew better than to believe that they were remotely interested. It had just finally clicked that this was how they were supposed to behave. But there was a part of Severus that actually wanted one of them to be stupid enough to slip up. Head pounding and stomach churning, his irate soul was screaming to be unleashed. He struggled to maintain his calm, cold demeanor. Had this been any other day, he would have taken his discomfort and frustrations out on Potter or Longbottom. But he couldn't muster up enough cruelty and loathing for that. He had already done and said everything possible to those boys. He questioned himself for such boredom and wondered if he should go and lie down.

He turned and let his eyes travel across the room, passing over the Slytherins as always. He once again caught sight of the Beckett girl. The young Gryffindor was slowly and sluggishly flipping through the pages of her book, not paying a bit of attention. Every now and then, she would quickly write something down, but not before looking over at Granger's notes. Snape felt the burn of rage in his gut. This girl had always been so attentive in his classes. She actually seemed to have a better grip on the subject than many of her classmates. And yet here she was, looking and acting like she couldn't give a damn about what he had to say. He withheld the desire to snarl. If there was one thing Snape hated more than students who were late, it was students who blatantly didn't care. He had to get her for this, purge this lazy rebellion from her being. But she too had already witnessed and been subjected to the things he had done in the past. He had to catch her while he guard was down.

That's when he got an idea. It was an old idea, but it had proven useful and satisfying in days gone by. It was what Horace Slughorn used to do to students who let their minds wander in class. Snape had watched the old man embarrass the hell out of Sirius Black many times before. He hadn't tried it for himself, but there is a first time for everything.

"Students," he barked. The class looked up with curious eyes. "Before we continue with the lesson, you must know that by this point in your education, you should be able to retrieve information at any given moment. Therefore, as a review for your upcoming NEWTs, I would like to ask you a few questions."

The Students suddenly perked up, no doubt seeing this as an opportunity to try and win some house points from the miserable bastard. "For example, who can identify the three main properties of Asphodel?" Hands shot up across the room. Pansy Parkinson was straining her arm, while Granger was bouncing in her seat. But Snape ignored all of them. He already had his target.

"How about you, Miss Beckett?"

Rose was jolted out of La-La-land by Snape's inquiry. Mentally exhausted, she had not been following the conversation and missed the question. She blushed a deep pink as she looked around and saw that all eyes were on her. "Um…I'm sorry, sir…what was the question?" she asked, resigning to the snickering.

"Tell me, what are the three main properties of Asphodel?"

Rose froze where she sat, trying her hardest to think against the pain in her head. But the effort was in vain. She couldn't recall the answer. She definitely knew it, but it was lost in the battlefield that was her mind. Asphodel had many components that made it a very useful ingredient. But what the hell were the three crucial ones?

'_Damn!' _She looked up with a little shame. "I… I'm sorry Professor. I don't know."

Snape raised his eyebrows. He had heard talk from other professors about how the girl had been having trouble the entire day; wrong answers, bad spells, and late homework. But he had been surprised at her here, a class that was supposedly one of her best. Aside from the burning hair incident, she had been quite capable in the craft. She might have been able to recite that answer in her sleep. And yet, though a sliver of his conscience was disappointed in her, she was vulnerable. He had her!

"Well then, how about this? Name four different potions in which Wormwood is a key ingredient, not counting the Draught of the Living Dead."

Again, Rose struggled to come up with the answer. Four? She knew of three… alright two, but four?! She would have had to have read ahead in this year's syllabus. She noticed that next to her, Hermione again had her hand up. Naturally, she read ahead. And apparently, so did several others. But Snape didn't pay them any notice. He kept his deep, black eyes locked on her. The trouble however was that with Snape, it was a full answer, or no answer at all.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but again, I don't know."

"What a pity," Snape's low voice was laced with sarcasm. "Why don't you try again? According to Fleuriste's studies, what is the most functional of flowers found in Muggle gardens?"

Rose rapidly searched her mind; she knew this one! "The…the marigold?"

"No, that is incorrect. Rather pathetic, really. It was only three years ago that you could recall that at the drop of a hat. You're losing your touch, I'm afraid. Can you tell what is more important in the creation of the Wit-Sharpening Potion, the ingredients or the brewing instructions?"

Rose rubbed at her temples. This confusion and frustration was killing her, and her face betrayed that. She just shook her head at the Potions master. Snape shook his head in return; this was completely unacceptable for a student of her age and experience. He sighed. "Well Miss Beckett; you, I must say, are an embarrassment to this craft. But surely you know this. What reverses the toxicity of Monkshood?"

Now, Rose was filled with a silent rage. She didn't even want to torture herself by trying to remember that answer. "For the last time, Professor, I don't know," she said, far more sternly.

"Come now, Miss Beckett. That was common knowledge."

"Maybe to you!"

There were quiet gasps as some of the students began to fidget in their seats, mouths agape. Snape stood at the front of the class with wide eyes. He had not expected such an outburst and was rather shocked. He felt his own anger growing as he looked at the ginger girl's unremorseful face. "Excuse me, Miss Beckett?" he asked, trying to control this building tension.

"What is common knowledge to you may not be to some of us," Rose explained as though she were speaking to an idiot.

"You are a Seventh year student. You should have been perfectly capable of answering every one of those questions."

"Well," Rose narrowed her eyes as she glared at Snape. "I'm sorry if I'm not the perfect student. I'm sorry if I can't answer your terrifically random questions. But correct me if I'm wrong. Was this not meant to be a review? And if it was, wouldn't that mean asking others besides me? Hermione could have answered every single one of those. Hell, _Neville _could have given you a right answer at some point. Why are you only asking me?"

Snape had his jaws clamped shut behind his lips; the witch was beginning to get at him. "You don't have the right to question what I do."

Rose leaned back in her chair, intentionally looking away. She huffed in frustration, and then looked back at Snape, who was still glaring at her from behind curtains of greasy hair. "I understand, this is because I was late," she almost laughed. "I already apologized, but if you feel like punishing me further, then go ahead. Ask another question."

Snape was inwardly snarling. The daft girl was asking for it! "Very well, Miss Beckett. What is the proper action to be taken when faced with the Flagrante curse?"

Rose coughed on her own breath, taken aback and completely confused. "Professor Snape, what the hell does that have to do with Potions?"

"Language, Miss Beckett. So that's five more points from Gryffindor." He heard groans from every one of the Gryffindors, who directed their aggravation at Rose.

"Please sir, if you're going to ask me questions, would you kindly stay on the subject?"

Alright, now the brat was challenging him. For a bright girl, she was a shining example of stupidity. But if she was going to mess with Snape, then Snape was going to mess with her. He thought hard. "As you wish. Name two ingredients in the Polyjuice Potion."

"Lacewing flies and Fluxweed."

Snape sighed. "Yes,"

There was some meager applause from others, giving Rose a smug look of pride. Finally, she got one right! She hoped that the greasy git would finally back off, but she had no such luck.

"Hmm, if you are so sure of yourself, then name all of the ingredients _and_ the brewing instructions." Snape crossed his arms across his chest. That was a trick question. Even if she did know all of that, she would have gotten the information illicitly.

Rose propped herself up on the desk, no readable emotion in her pale face. Then she took a deep breath and began speaking. Her voice hoarse from prolonged aggravation, she went on for what seemed like an hour, clearly naming herbs and other oddities, and giving fairly exact instructions. Impressive for a school banned potion. There was just one problem; it was not the Polyjuice Potion she was describing. And Snape felt as though his head would burst when he realized what Rose _was _describing. She had just laid out the making of Bubble Juice. This peculiar concoction, not to be confused with the Muggle substance used as a toy by children, had no use to a wizard except to induce a hallucinatory state, and a terrifically risky one at that. It had been said that the addicting potion was known to make the drinker feel invincible and lighter than air. Highly toxic in large doses, Bubble Juice had been declared illegal in all British Wizarding establishments after a string of deaths in the 1970s. It was also common knowledge that an underage wizard found in possession of the drug-like potion would be punished even more severely.

And here, Snape thought, was an eighteen year-old witch who knew exactly how to make it.

Snape was nearly blinded by his rage as Rose looked at him with revolting pride. She smiled at Granger, who looked positively horrified. She turned her attention back to the Potions master. "Miss Beckett, do you have any idea what you have just said?" Snape hissed through gritted teeth.

"If you mean by how I described the wrong potion, which happens to be banned, for all to hear, then yes!" Rose threw Snape a mocking smile.

The angry Potions master found himself gripping the edge of his desk. It was talking everything he had to keep his hand off of his wand. The tension was also beginning to irritate his stomach again. What had he gotten himself into?

He looked up to the rest of the class to see that every single one of them, with the exception of Smart-arse and the Dream team, was feverishly scribbling on parchment. He could already guess that they were desperately trying to write down what Rose had said while it was still fresh in their memories. Growling, he stormed over to Draco and grabbed his notes from his hand. A quick glance confirmed his suspicions. He sneered at the blonde before moving to Parkinson and ripping her scribbles off the desktop.

Snape then proceeded to confiscate the instructions from all of his students. Collecting the papers in his hands, he took off five points from everyone, even his coddled Slytherins. After all, he didn't want his house to think that they could get away with brewing, using, or selling the retched stuff. In addition to the loss of house points, every young man received a not-so-gentle smack to the back of their head. Harry enjoyed the chance to watch Snape hit Malfoy for a change until he too felt the brunt force of Snape's stack of papers. He rubbed his head as Ron was whacked beside him.

"Professor, what was that for?!" exclaimed Ron.

"We didn't write anything!" Harry also protested.

"Do you think that matters to me?" Lucky for Snape, both Potter and Weasley had nothing more to say. Papers in hand, he stormed back up to his desk. He stuffed the pile into a drawer, slammed it shut, and charmed it. He would get rid of those later. He turned back to Rose.

"If you like, I can tell you everything you need to know about brewing Amortentia, because I can do that too."

"Quiet," Snape snarled. "Miss Beckett, I have not the slightest idea how you acquired this information. But why did you feel the need to share it with me?"

"Well sir, you've asked me so many questions I didn't know. I just thought I should tell you something that I do know."

"What you do know is completely irrelevant and unlawful. And if you are as clever as you think you are, you will do well to forget it."

"Fair enough Professor," Rose was smug again. "Please continue to indulge us in your vast and mostly useless knowledge. Come sir, ask me another question."

That did it. In that moment, Snape's loathing for the Beckett girl rivaled that for Potter. He was thoroughly fed up with her mouthing off at him. Oh, he had a question for her! He stalked over to her desk and stared down his nose at her.

"How's your father?"

For a brief moment, Rose appeared shocked and offended. But then her face melted into anger, and her eyes burned with rage. "I don't know. But then again, you've probably seen him more recently than I have."

Snape's stomach turned. She had some nerve, that stubborn bitch! Snape had been pestered and snapped at by students before, but none had been able to come anywhere close to the snark of Rose Beckett. She hadn't overstepped her boundaries; she passed them by a long way's behind. Now he had to put an end to this and put the young Gryffindor back in her place. He leaned down and planted his hands on the desktop, his face mere inches away from Rose.

"You just don't care, do you?" he sneered. "None of this matters anymore. Gone are the days of the diligent young girl. To think that I had the audacity to believe you had what it takes to be a great witch. But perhaps I was wrong after all. Oh, how the mighty have fallen! You are like every other Gryffindor I have had the misfortune to encounter. You mistake your arrogance for cleverness. I don't know what convinced you otherwise, but your little performance is inexcusable. I already know what you will try and say, _"Oh Professor Snape, it's only one off day. Give me a break, I'm only human."_ You think you can have a little trouble from time to time. You think you can allow yourself some slack, no harm done. But you know what? Your father thought the same thing. He left school with barely the skin off his teeth. Right now, I see him in you, a lazy, disrespectful lost cause. I'll bet you have big plans for the future. Well, here's a wakeup call. You cannot live like an adult if you cannot behave like one. If you continue on as you are today, you will fail this class, fail your NEWT exam, and crush the little hopes and dreams you came here looking for. Now, do you have anything else to say?"

Rose stonewalled him, her freckled cheeks burning red. Her eyes glazed over as she took deep breaths in. She was mortified beyond belief, but she wasn't going to sit there and take it in silence. She felt a sudden surge of fury rush through her whole body. "That might be true, but at least I don't abandon others to save my own tired arse!"

Snape backed away, eyes and mouth wide open. The dungeon was filled with gasps and panicked whispers. Did Rose just call Snape out? They all froze in their seats, visions of horror flashing through their minds. Ron thought to himself about how Rose should take a nice good look around the room, as it might be the last thing she would see.

"What?!" Snape said through gritted teeth.

"You heard what I said!" said Rose, straightening her back. "What? No comment?"

Snape clenched his hands into fists, his bony knuckles turning white. "How dare you?!" he growled.

"Oh, I do!" Rose stood up from her seat. She yanked out the red ribbon, her damp hair falling around her shoulders. "And there's plenty more where that came from!"

"You ungrateful little brat!" shouted Snape.

"And you're a foul, loathsome, cowardly bastard!"

The entire class froze, too alarmed to give anymore muffled commentary. They simply watched as Rose gathered her books and threw her bag over shoulder. She gave one last vicious look to the Potions master before starting for the door.

"If you walk out that door –," Snape started, but before he could finish his threat, Rose screamed out, "_GO FUCK YOURSELF!_" She slammed the door behind her.

Every student looked to the door with shock and panic, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Even Malfoy held an expression that could have been taken as fear. Eyes shifted back to Snape. The Potions master's face had suddenly gone a ghostly white, a hand firmly pressed to his head while his other arm wrapped tightly around his torso. His anger barely concealed the anguish going on deep inside him. He took several shaky breaths before shooting a look of certain death at the old wooden door. He turned away, letting his hands reach into his robes. He heard someone, probably Longbottom, panic and whisper loudly, "He's going for his wand!" Before he could snap his head around, he heard the screeching of stools on stone. He turned around to see that many students had ducked under their desks.

"Get up!" he bellowed. As the students began to rise again, Snape stomped over to his closed office door. He kicked it open and yelled out, "Three hundred points from Gryffindor!"

The angry lions stood and yelled in protest. "You can't do that!" Parvati squealed.

"Sir, we only have two hundred!" shouted Seamus.

"I don't care! Three hundred points!" Snape stood in his office doorway for a moment, and then roared, "Class dismissed!" He slammed the door so hard, bottles rattled on tabletops.

For a long, drawn out moment, the class had no idea what to do. Never before had they been basically abandoned mid-lesson. They exchanged confused, desperate glances, the only sound breaking their collective silence was their shallow, nervous breathing. Finally, Blaise Zabini rose up and broke the stillness.

"Well…I don't know about any of you, but I'm getting out of here before he decides to come out."

He gathered up his belongings and left with a running start. Sometime after, Malfoy got up and left, followed by Goyle and Parkinson. Everybody took that as a definite sign that the best idea was to leave while they still could. The remaining Slytherins, along with the Ravenclaws and the few Hufflepuffs, left in a great hurry. They left behind the famous trio and the other Gryffindors.

"Hey, I think we should leave too," said Neville. "Only Merlin knows what Snape will do when he gets out here."

"If he's going to do anything, he's going to go look for Rose," said Harry, his words grim as though he regretted saying that.

"He's not going to find her because I'm going to find her first," said Seamus, quite angry.

"What?"asked Ron.

"She's going to get it for that," Seamus answered.

"Yeah!" Dean Thomas jumped in. "She cost us three hundred points, along with all the rest she's lost today. We ought to kill her for that!"

"Dean, you don't really mean that," said Harry, trying to talk down his classmates. "She didn't exactly do anything truly horrific to anyone."

"Harry, they're right," Neville interrupted. "Rose has been causing us trouble all day. Because of her, we have _NEGATIVE_ points! We can't let her get away with this."

The boys gathered their books and stood up. Seamus then took charge. "Alright guys, after our last class, meet in the common room. I'll spread the word to everyone else. Then, we're going on a witch hunt!"

They started out. "Right, she couldn't have gone too far," said Dean. The conversation faded as they walked out of the door into the dungeon halls. Harry noticed Parvati running after him, hopefully to try and talk some sense into them. The three remaining Gryffindors felt a wave of slight panic wash over all of them.

"Hey guys, I don't think they're kidding," Ron squeaked.

"Ron's right, they probably do want to do something awful to Rose," Hermione added. "Harry, what are we going to do?"

Harry thought for a very long second before saying, "We go on a witch hunt."

"Harry, what are you talking about?! Rose is our friend!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to stay quiet enough so that Snape didn't hear her from inside his office.

"My point exactly, Hermione," Harry explained. "Since we know her better, we have a better chance of finding her. We just have to find her before the others do."

"Harry," Ron interrupted. "We have to find her before _Snape_ finds her. We could save her life."

"Yes, I know." Harry realized the potential danger of having one very angry Severus Snape finding Rose. "We'll find her…I know! We have to get a head start on everyone else. Hermione, go to Arithmancy and do whatever you can to get out of class. Ron and I will go talk to Remus, give him a heads up. We'll wait for you on the fifth floor, near the empty classrooms. Then we can start from there."

Harry ignored the distressed look in Hermione's eyes at the thought of missing a class for no legitimate reason. He quickly reminded her that she would have to take one for the team to help their cranky, rampaging friend. Ron tried to give her a few bogus excuses to use as they rapidly gathered their things and escaped the dungeon classroom. Hermione, however, shot most of them down. After all, Septima Vector was not a daft woman. There was no way that she would buy a story of how Hermione had to go claim responsibility for turning someone's skin green.

**~HP~**

The double class of Third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws arrived forty five minutes later to find a roll of parchment tacked up to the door of the Potions classroom. The notice told them that class had been cancelled, and that they should all report to the library for the remainder of the class period. They all breathed a sigh of relief that their last class of the day had been called off, though some were relieved for other reasons. Only a few of them knew what had happened, overhearing the angry whispers from their Gryffindor counterparts. This left them to fill in their housemates. It would only be a matter of hours before the entire school would know the tragically funny tale, avoiding Snape at all cost and following the hunt for Rose Beckett.

**~HP~**

Severus sat in the dark armchair in front of his desk, propping his head up in his hands. He had spent nearly thirty minutes in a fit of rage that he hadn't known in a long while. Even though he had somewhat calmed down by then, his heart still raced as his head pounded like he was being repeatedly hit by a Bludger. He also felt rather weak, though that most likely had to do with the fact that his extreme agitation had caused him to throw up yet again. He was waiting for his second dose of Anti-nausea Potion to kick in.

He looked down at the floor. It was littered with shattered glass and broken bottles, a mess of potions and ingredients scattered everywhere in between. Such damage was thanks to a number of wandless, unspoken hexes, as well as Severus's own hands. But he couldn't even think about cleaning up his office. He had enough on his mind without a meager task like that. And even in his calm state of mind, that certainly did not mean that he was ready to let go of the fiasco that was his last class. He used his momentary quiet to solidify his response to that incredible act of disrespect.

Stepping over the shards, Severus quietly walked into his empty classroom. He looked around at the empty desks, his obsidian eyes falling on one in particular. He then reached into his billowing robes and grabbed hold of his wand. Just as his _brilliant _students had predicted, Severus had only one thing on his mind. He had to find that blasted girl and see to it that she paid dearly for the things she said.

He opened his hand, letting his dark wand rest in his palm. "Point me to Rosella Beckett," he said in a deep, scratchy voice.

Slowly but surely, his wand spun in his hand until it settled again, pointing in an eastward direction. The tip of his wand also began to glow with a deep blue light. He had to admit his gratitude to whoever made those improvements to the Point-me Charm. While his wand would continuously point him to his target, the tip would also go from blue to bright red as he got closer.

His face tense with determination, Severus walked over to the door and pushed it open. And then, wand hand extended, he began his hunt.

**~HP~**

_**Alright, so I might have taken some creative liberty on the magic and spells involved, and the term Bubble Juice was taken from a throwaway line of Harry's in the movie of Goblet of Fire. But that's the beauty of working in a universe like this, and boy is it fun!**_

_**Reviews are welcome!**_


	6. Witch hunt

**_Hey folks, it's four in the morning, and I'm posting. Does that make me a writer or what? Anyway, bad puns aside, here's a new chapter. I hope you enjoy!_**

**____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Hermione paced outside the open door of a long disused classroom, her conscious laden with stress and guilt. She had managed to successfully get out of Arithmancy on the bogus grounds that she was ill and needed to see the nurse. It killed her to do it, but she had no choice. Thank Merlin for that brief moment of understanding by Professor Vector. That woman was almost impossible to lie to, and Hermione knew it far too well.

She looked at her watch, trying to calm her nerves. Where the hell were those boys? Surely they hadn't accepted an offer for quiet tea from Professor Lupin. It was Harry's bloody idea to go on this search. They should have been up here first.

Hermione's rapid heart skipped a bit when she heard hasty footsteps coming down the hall. She was ready to dive into the dark, dusty room when Harry and Ron came around the corner, gasping for air after running up the steps like they had an angry dragon on their tail. Harry leaned against the wall while Ron doubled over and took deep, gaping breaths. "Days when I'm so glad that we dropped Divination," he croaked. "I never would have been able to run from all the way up there."

"Especially not after second-hand incense smoke," Harry added.

"Enough of that, you two," Hermione snapped.

"Yes, yes, alright." Harry quickly composed himself. "Now to find Rose. Remus said that he hasn't seen her since this morning. Hermione, did you see any sign of her on your way upstairs?"

"No, I ran into Parvati and Lavender and they said they hadn't heard from her at all. But I don't think Rose would bother going to Divination after that. I don't even think she knows just how much trouble she's in."

"Then why would she feel the need to hide?" asked Ron.

Hermione shrugged, her eyebrows wrinkling. "Well, if anything, I suppose she thinks Snape is coming after her."

"Right, let's just think," sighed Harry. "Where would be the first place Rose would go if she wanted to get away from people?"

"Wherever she went, it had to be someplace that neither Snape nor the others would know about," said Ron. The three of them were quiet, totally immersed in thought. Ron continued. "Hermione, Rose is your roommate."

"Brilliant Ronald," Hermione rolled her eyes. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm just saying that you know her on a different level than we do. Try to think like her. If you were her, where would you go if you knew you were being chased by a few angry dunderheads and a slightly unstable teacher?"

Hermione pondered again, trying to recall anything Rose might have mentioned to her over the course of seven years. Finally, she snapped her fingers. "The Muggle Studies classroom! She used to go there all the time while on her breaks from class. And she's been telling me how well she's been getting on with Professor Wicker. She could have gone there to hide for a little while."

"That's too obvious," Ron shook his head.

"Ron's right," Harry agreed. "And there's also a class in there right now. I doubt she used to spend her free time sitting in on another lesson. And besides, Wicker wouldn't be able to protect her for long. She's just too new here. She wouldn't stand a chance against Snape."

"Think boys," Hermione bit out. "We have to think of the unlikeliest of places."

"What about Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?" Ron asked.

"That certainly is unlikely," said Hermione. "But it's a start."

They all bolted for the stairwell and swiftly made their way down the marble steps. They tried their absolute best not to make noise as they ran, and Hermione was constantly looking around. She didn't want to take the chance of also being caught out of class, never mind Rose. In no time, the little group closed in on the infamous out-of-order loo. They crept in, Hermione taking one last look around the corridor. Sure enough, Myrtle was floating about above the cubicles, wailing on and on about doom and gloom or whatever her problem was. Harry stepped forward and cleared his throat. The ghostly student whirled around, and her bleak features faded into something soft.

"Oh, hello Harry," Myrtle said in her quieter, gentler voice as opposed to the harsh shrill she was so known for. "What are you doing out of class? Being a bad boy, aren't you?"

"Not necessarily," Harry started bluntly. "Myrtle, has anyone else been in here today?"

"No, you three are the first ones I've seen in a long while."

"Are we?" asked Hermione. "Then I take it you haven't seen a friend of ours then?"

"Which one?" asked Myrtle, tilting her head to the side.

"Have you heard of a girl called Rose Beckett?" Hermione clarified. "She's about my height, red hair, blue eyes, Gryffindor?"

"Snappy sarcasm at times?" asked Myrtle.

"You've heard of her?!" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh yes," Myrtle floated down to hover next to Harry, just a little too close for comfort. "She's only come in here twice before. Two years ago, I think. And she never came in here unless she had some other girl with her. I think they were being naughty, brewing some potion or something." To the three friends, Rose's knowledge of a potion like Bubble Juice suddenly started to make sense. Myrtle continued. "She seemed nice enough, but so nasty when she got her knickers in a knot. I wondered how her friends tolerated that, that Slytherin boy in particular –,"

"Well Myrtle," Harry cut her off. "You haven't seen her recently then?"

"No Harry, I haven't. I haven't seen anyone since those awful Death Eaters took over the castle last year. I would have assumed that either she was dead or she's left."

"Well, she did return to school very much alive," said Ron. "But that fact might be in question right now."

Hermione smacked Ron's arm. "What Ron is trying to say is that Rose is in trouble right now and we need to find her."

"Ooohh!" Myrtle grinned, her eyes squinting with curiosity. "What did she do?"

"She ticked off Professor Snape and now he's angry at her and we don't know where she is," said Ron, not stopping for breath.

"Oh dear, that's bad," Myrtle sighed. "Now, when you say angry…"

"He's furious," said Hermione.

"It's like he's out to kill her," Ron interjected, but then he paused. "Who knows? He just might be."

"Stop it Ron!" scolded Hermione. "Snape is not going to kill her!"

"But she's still going to be in a lot of trouble," said Harry. "For all we know, Snape could try to get her expelled."

"Oh dear me!" Myrtle moaned as she floated back up above the cubicles. "Oh Harry, if I see your friend…that is, if the professor doesn't find her first, I will tell her that you are looking for her."

"Myrtle, if you see her, tell her to find a better hiding place," said Ron as they left the student ghost to her reveries.

Harry sighed as he and his companions exited the bathroom. He and Ron leaned against the wall as Hermione slowly paced. "Alright, we knew that she probably wouldn't be in there," she said. "We just have to think."

"But Hermione," interjected Ron. "Where else could she have gone?"

"It's a huge castle, Ron," Harry pointed out. "And Rose isn't exactly a slow person. She could be anywhere by now."

"Just let me think." Hermione rubbed at her temples, yet she remained calm. She continued to pace, now crossing paths with Harry. The Head Boy also looked as though he was deep in thought. He stopped mid-stride. "She may not be in this loo, but she may be in another one."

"But then Hermione would have to check every single girl's bathroom in the school," Ron seemed to object.

"Then we'll have to split up," said Hermione. "We could cover more ground that way."

And so it was that the three went their separate ways after deciding on their respective destinations and ventured off into the empty halls. Hermione had surrendered to the task of checking every girl's lavatory that she knew of. Harry had sent Ron up to Gryffindor tower while he took to checking over places like the library, also quickly glancing into open classroom doors. Who knew? Maybe the clever bitch was hiding under some teacher's desk. As ridiculous as that sounded, Harry just couldn't help but wonder.

Harry had just exited the library, still alone, when he heard the sound of footsteps around the corner. He saw an imminent black shadow on the wall. Harry didn't know what told him that this shadow and those footsteps belonged to Snape. It may have just been some sort of sixth sense he had picked up over the years. Whatever it was, it also wasn't usually wrong. He ducked behind a corner. And low and behold, he was right.

Snape came around the corner and seemed to stop in front of the library doors. Harry peered out to see what he was up to. He saw that Snape's wand hovered just above his hand, pointing in some obscure direction. The tip was shining with a light that was somewhere between white and a very faint green. It looked like a much better version of a basic directing spell. Harry suddenly felt a surge of panic. He and the others were now in a race to beat Snape's wand to Rose. The urgency of this was made painfully obvious when Harry caught sight of the Potions master's face.

Harry waited until Snape disappeared down the hall, following his wand and his own sense of direction. Then the young man took off in the opposite direction. He had flown down several flights of stairs when he ran into Hermione and Ron as they too went to head downstairs.

"Neither of us found anything," said Hermione, sounding most disappointed. "What about you?"

"The only thing I know now is that we're running out of time," Harry told them. "Snape's on the move, tracking spell and everything."

"Oh god!" Hermione started to panic. "Where the hell could she be hiding? I even went up to check our room, and still nothing."

Harry got an idea. "Hey, what if we go ask Hagrid? Maybe he's seen her."

"Harry, she hasn't gone anywhere near that hut since fourth year," Ron tried to reason.

"Well, right now it's the only option because I'm running out of ideas." Harry was interrupted by the final bell of the day ringing. "C'mon, let's move."

Once on the ground floor, the trio ran out towards to cloud-covered courtyard. From there, they made their way across the school grounds. The hems of their robes soaked up what was left of the rain water in the grass, and their shoes were squeaking when they approached the door to Hagrid's hut. Harry banged on the door, setting off Fang's loud barking. The half-giant pushed open the door with a smile.

"Well hullo there!" he exclaimed. "What a wonderful surprise! Please come in, have some tea."

"Actually Hagrid," Harry interrupted. "We came to ask you something. You know Rose Beckett? We were wondering if you've seen her down around here."

"Is there some kind of trouble?"

"Yes," It was Hermione's turn to speak. "She's in a bit of a pickle right now. We want to know if she's alright."

Hagrid smiled. "Then why don't yeh just ask her yerself?" He stepped out of the doorway. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all stunned to see Rose sitting at Hagrid's massive table with a huge cup of tea in her hand. Her robe and shoes were drying by the fire. She turned to them with a little smile, raising her cup in acknowledgement.

"You really are a clever bitch!" Ron blurted out.

"What? Is this the last place you expected to find me?"

"Exactly!"

Rose wasn't the only one to laugh at Ron's frankness. Hagrid chuckled heartily as he motioned for the three friends to come inside the house. They hoisted themselves up onto the remaining chairs as Rose set down her cup. "So how did you know I was here?" she asked.

"We didn't," said Harry. "It was one of our last ideas."

"Rose, we've been looking all over the castle for you," Hermione explained. Hagrid poured out tea for the rest of them.

"Really? You've been looking for me?" Rose looked strangely puzzled. "Why is that?"

"Well, after what happened in class, we wanted to know what happened to you," said Hermione, sipping her tea. "We wanted to make sure that you were alright."

"Well, as you can see, I'm quite alright." Rose tipped her head back, draining the last of her tea. "I might be a bit jittery, but I'm alright. You must have had a hard time coming up with ideas, classes only just ended."

"Actually, we've been searching for around two hours," Hermione explained, looking away in embarrassment. "Harry and Ron didn't have any trouble, but I had to abandon Arithmancy."

Rose raised her eyebrows. "_You_ skipped out on a class?" She sounded astounded. Hermione gave a short, shameful nod. Rose choked on a laugh. "Merlin's beard! That's incredible. You must really value my friendship."

"Don't mention it." This was more of a warning to Rose from Hermione.

"Where else did you look?"

"Everywhere," said Ron. "The common room, the dormitories, bathrooms, the library, empty classrooms… between the three of us, we covered the entire castle."

"Oh, I'm sorry if I led you on a wild goose chase," said Rose, wrinkling her eyebrows.

"How did you end up out here?" asked Harry, quite curious.

"Well after I ran out of Potions, I wandered around the halls for a while. I had to blow off steam, you know? I couldn't possibly go to Divination, not with the luck I've been having today. The last thing I needed was to have Trelawney warn me of some more bad fortune ahead. I thought about going up to the common room, but I don't know what stopped me. I ran into Hagrid and something told me it was a good idea to hide out for a few hours."

"You would be stupid not to." Ron raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Why do yeh say that, Ron?" asked Hagrid as he sat down in his enormous armchair.

"Let's say that it involves a professor who has no sense of basic hair care."

Rose growled, resting a hand on her forehead. "Don't even start with me about Snape. Words could not possibly describe the loathing I feel for that man right now. In fact, I couldn't possibly give a damn about him right now. But don't any of you think that I'm out here because of him. I'm hiding because I just wanted to get away from the fucking world. By the way, what happened after I left class?"

"Do you really want to know?" Hermione asked.

Rose's face fell. "Oh no, that doesn't sound good."

"You have no idea," Harry added. "After you took off, Snape was so furious that even the Slytherins were scared. He couldn't even carry on with the lesson. He just dismissed us and stormed into his office. But right before he did…he deducted three hundred points from Gryffindor."

"He did what?!" Rose shouted, suddenly standing up.

"He deducted three hundred points," Harry repeated, very glumly.

"But he can't do that!"

"You don't think we told him that?" suggested Ron. "He was going do it anyway, he didn't care."

Rose's face turned red, scrunching her eyes shut and baring her teeth. "Fuck!" She lashed out at her teacup and threw it against the wall, smashing it. Fang barked at the sudden crash.

"Oi!" Hagrid jumped up. "Calm down, lass!" He walked over and placed a huge hand on Rose's shoulder, gently forcing her back down into the chair. Rose quickly regained control over herself and relaxed again. She looked down at the broken ceramic with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Hagrid. I didn't mean to do that." She pulled out her wand. "_Reparo!_" The cup mended itself in mid air and flew back up to rest on the table.

"Alright, Rose, no harm done. I understand, it's been a tough day fer yeh." Hagrid patted Fang on his head to quiet his relentless barking before sitting back down in his armchair. "Three hundred points, eh? I didn't think yeh had that many points to lose."

"We didn't," said Harry. "We're in negative figures now."

"I can't believe he did that, that fucking git! Surely McGonagall wouldn't allow it."

"I don't think she can give us those points back so easily." Ron shook his head. "Someone would have to do something pretty amazing to earn them."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yeah, good luck to them! Three hundred points, that's mindboggling!"

"Here," said Hagrid, seeing Rose cradle her head in her hands. "Have another cuppa tea." He poured out a second cup for the red-haired witch, but Rose seemed to have lost interest. She simply stirred the hot liquid with her fingertip.

"We thought it was better for you to hear it from us than from someone else," said Hermione, setting aside her cup. "You know how gossip travels so quickly."

"Yes, like Parkinson needed another reason to take a stab at me. But why do I have the feeling that there's more that I don't know about?" Rose massaged her temples at the thought. She saw the uneasy looks on her friends' faces. "What? Did Snape command the Slytherins to hunt me down and torture me into madness?"

"No," Ron let his gaze wander away. "But you've got the right idea."

Rose wrinkled her flaxen eyebrows in confusion. "What is he talking about?" she asked, looking at Hermione. The frazzled brunette diverted her attention to Harry, who took off his glasses to rub his eyes.

"The other Gryffindors aren't happy at all," he explained, swiftly re-shielding his green eyes. "After Snape dismissed us, they were so angry that they devised a plan to track you down after classes."

"An' do what?" asked Hagrid, a bit shocked at what he was hearing.

"Who knows?" said Ron. "I don't think that they got that far in their planning."

"They couldn' have meant any harm."

"I don't know, Hagrid." Harry turned to face the half-giant. "You should have seen them. It was like they had all gone mental."

Rose tried to comprehend her new situation. "So what you mean to say is that as we speak, a number of our housemates are prowling around the castle on a regular old witch hunt."

"Their words, exactly," said Ron, nodding his head.

"No better than Muggles, I tell you." Rose stared into the fireplace, deep in thought. "It was Dean and Seamus, wasn't it?"

"And Neville," Harry added.

Rose groaned, planting her head on the tabletop. Fang got up from his basket and rested his head in her lap. "What did they think they would do once they found me? Toss me in a pit with Snape and watch what happens?" Rose's voice was muffled against the wood. She didn't see Hermione's face flush as Harry's eyes shifted.

"Yeah Rose," Ron spoke up. "There's something else you should know."

The ginger girl kept her mouth shut against the wail that escaped her throat. "Don't tell me that Snape's out to get me!"

"I saw him on the fourth floor," said Harry. "And by the looks of it, he was dead set on finding you quickly. He was using a tracking charm. If I'm honest, I wouldn't be surprised if he burst in here at any moment."

"Rose," Hermione leaned forward across the table. "Did it not occur to you that you could be in deep trouble after the things you said?"

"Of course, it did! That hit me before I left the room. But how was I supposed to know that he would go to the extent of tracking me down?"

"And it looks like he cancelled class to do so," Ron interjected.

Rose turned, stroking the top of Fang's head. "Hagrid, would you be so kind as to escort me back up to Gryffindor tower?"

Hagrid let out a chuckle at the request. "I could, but yeh know that I can't protect yeh fer long. From what I hear from the lot o' yeh, yeh said some things that would call for discipline. It is Snape's right to discipline yeh, and unfortunately, it would have come sooner or later. I'm sorry, lass, but yeh had it comin'."

Rose's eyes wandered around the room. "You know, Parkinson nipping at my ankles is starting to sound alright now." And that was the break in tension that everyone seemed to need.

**~HP~**

Some twenty minutes had gone by when the four friends bid goodbye to Hagrid and started for the castle. While the Magical Creatures teacher could not be persuaded to become a body guard, Rose was not going to be left alone to vanish again. "We'll work together," Harry had decided. "We can make sure she gets up there safe."

"Harry, you know I was just joking with Hagrid, right?" Rose suggested. "I don't need protection. I can handle myself just fine."

"I'd rather not take that chance," Harry warned Rose as they approached the massive doors.

They all walked closely together through the halls, keeping a constant lookout. Having just been released from classes, students were everywhere. All four of them felt the uncomfortable tension of being watched as curious looks and annoyed stares shifted to Rose. Evidently, they had all heard about what had happened. Hermione was right; word does spread quickly.

They passed a fair few young Gryffindors on their way up to the common room, but thankfully, they just carried on with their business. Harry still kept an eye and ear open for their Irish ringleader. They didn't stop to talk to anyone, it would have been stalling. Even when they were approached by a chipper Nearly-Headless Nick on the fifth floor, Harry diverted any conversation by saying, "You didn't see us, alright?"

It took a ridiculous amount of time to get up to the seventh floor. The little group ended up doing everything from changing their route to avoid fellow lions, to ducking around corners should Snape suddenly appear. But after a long while with no sign of anyone, Rose got lulled into a false sense of security. She seemed to ignore the fact that there were people out looking for her, waltzing through the halls like there was nothing amiss. It grew to such an extent that when they turned the corridor that led to the Fat Lady, Rose turned around and actually began to walk backwards.

"What did I tell you?" she said, facing the others. "Nearly there and no sign of those idiots or the greasy bastard."

Harry thought that Rose should be really careful about what she said. After all, in this unique case, the walls actually did have ears. "Rose, shut it. We don't know if anyone could be around, or if your voice is carrying."

"Harry, will you just relax? If we were to run into someone, I think we would have run into them by now." Rose continued to walk backwards.

"Rose, be serious," Hermione added sternly. "We could get caught at any time."

"We're not going to get caught!"

The trio suddenly froze where they stood, causing Rose to stop. All three of her friends looked as though they had just seen the ghost of He-who-must-not-be-named-anymore. Their faces went white while their breath stilled. Evidently, something bad was behind her. Swallowing hard, she slowly turned to see that she now stood before a furious Professor Snape. His wand pointed to her chest with a fiery red tip. There was a delayed silence as Rose held her breath.

"Oh fuck!" she yelled, feeling a sudden burst of lightning race to her feet. But before she could make a run for it, Snape grabbed her wrist and held on with violent tension.

"Oh, no you don't!" he growled. "You're not getting away this time!"

"Get your filthy hands off me, you prick!" Rose continued to yell, fighting fiercely against her restraint, pulling at her wrist with all her power. By this point, other students began to congregate around them. Some were even drawn out of the Gryffindor common room by the noise, including a defeated Seamus Finnigan.

"Silence! You're coming with me!" Snape yanked Rose forward, making her stumble in his direction. "I can assure you that you will not get away with this!" He started to drag her away.

"Let go of me!" Rose screamed, trying and failing to dig her feet into the stone floor.

"Shut up, you brat!"

All Harry, Hermione, and Ron could do was watch as their friend was pulled away, her calls and swears echoing through the halls.

**~HP~**

Minerva McGonagall, knee deep in essays and stranded at her desk, was startled when her classroom doors flew open and one Severus Snape stormed in, dragging Rosella Beckett by her wrist. Once they had reached the front of the room, he forcefully shoved the student toward the desk, causing her to stumble and fall to her knees. Rose looked up at her Head of House. McGonagall did not look happy to see her in the least, looking down on her from behind her glasses.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall," said Rose, trying to force a smile.

"I wish I were able to say the same, Miss Beckett." McGonagall set her quill down in its well. "Professor Snape tells me that there was a disturbance in his class and that you were the cause –,"

"Disturbance, my arse!" Snape interrupted.

"Severus!" The spry, elderly witch scolded her younger colleague. She then turned her attention back to Rose. "Now Miss Beckett, care to explain what happened?"

"Why should I?" Rose cocked an eyebrow. "I'm sure Professor Snape has already told you everything I said."

"You see, Minerva?!" Snape stepped forward, gesturing to Rose. "_That _is exactly what I was telling you about. The little bi…the little brat has no sense of when to shut her mouth!"

"So you do not deny what you said to the professor?" asked McGonagall, ignoring the man's ranting.

Rose sighed, her eyes drifting closed. "No Professor, I don't."

"There you have it!" said Snape. "She admits it! Minerva, I had better see some punishment for this."

"Oh yeah, then why not do it yourself instead of dragging me here?" Rose glared at Snape out of the corner of her squinted eye.

Snape's hand clenched into a tight, pale fist. "Perhaps it is because I do not have the proper authority to do what I see fit." He took a few steps toward the agitated student, McGonagall tensing as she watched. He went on. "Had you been in Slytherin, which by the way I sometimes believe you should have been –,"

"You have no right to tell me what house I should be in!" shouted Rose, stepping back and away from Snape.

"_Silence!"_ Snape shouted back. He grabbed hold of her wrist again, making Rose struggle to escape. "As I was saying, if I had total control over your punishments, I would gladly see to it that you never set foot in this castle again."

"Severus, let go of her!" McGonagall's stern voice brought both teacher and student back to reality. Snape looked down to see that Rose's hand had developed a distinctly purple shade. Only then did he let go. He stepped back to his original position.

"I believe you have both said quite enough. It is not your place to make such a rash decision, Severus," the deputy headmistress reaffirmed. She then turned her attention to Rose. "Miss Beckett, I hope you realize that your behavior is truly disappointing to me, and I'm sure I speak for others as well. But more importantly, it will not be tolerated in any way. While I agree with Professor Snape that serious consequences are in order, I do not believe that expulsion is the answer." She noticed the look of rage-filled disbelief on Snape's face as Rose seemed to sigh with relief.

"Do not think that you will be let off lightly. That would be an insult in light of such blatant disrespect. Therefore, seeing as I cannot deduct any more house points, I will be writing to your mother about this, and you shall receive nightly detention for the remainder of this week and the two that follow. I must tell you Miss Beckett, I strongly recommend that you learn to control your temper. There is no good excuse for lashing out at a teacher in the manner that you did. Now, report back here after dinner for your first detention assignment. I will tell you where to go from there. You may return to your dormitories."

Rose spun on her heel and bolted from the room. She could already hear Snape's angry voice snarling at McGonagall, probably protesting her ideas of discipline. Rose wouldn't dare admit it, but she felt that Snape meant it when he said he would have her expelled. But really, were nearly three weeks of nightly detention and the humiliation of negative point figures not bad enough?

She ran for as long as she could, nearly trampling younger students and dodging Professor Lupin as he walked through the corridor. Eventually though, she did tire and slowed down as she approached the stone steps. As she ascended, the stress of the day seemed to finally sap away her remaining energy. She was dragging her feet by the time she approached the Fat Lady. Thankfully, she remembered the password and entered the common room through the entrance hole. Everyone was going about with their evening activities; finishing homework, playing chess, listening to music, and enjoying each other's company. As she approached the fireplace, in front of which Harry, Hermione, and Ron waited for her, she noticed the looks of dulled anger from more than a few of her housemates.

"Hey, I'm sorry, alright?" she raised her voice, gesturing the room. Out of the silence, she heard Dean say, "Merlin, she's still here!"

"Are you kidding?" Seamus added. "I can't believe she's still alive!"

Rose sneered at the boys as she flopped down onto the sofa between Hermione and Harry. From behind, they heard Neville join in the conversation. "Who said Snape had to kill her to end her life?" There was a bit of laughter, including that of some nosey First years who had overheard.

"Don't listen to them," said Ron, who relaxed into the fat armchair. "They're just messing with you. You know, still a little mad about our house points."

Rose sighed, sinking further into the cushions. "So, what happened?" asked Harry. "Snape didn't get you expelled, did he?"

"Would I be sitting here talking to you if he did?" Rose smiled, her friends happy to see that she was alright. "Really Harry, if he had, I would be upstairs right now, packing and crying. But no, McGonagall didn't think it was necessary."

"But you didn't get off easy," said Hermione.

"No, I did not," Rose groaned. "I have detention every night for the next two and a half weeks." There was a reaction from more than just the trio, callings and various '_ooh_'s bouncing off the walls.

"Is it with McGonagall?" Hermione asked.

"I wish," said Rose. "She said she would tell me later tonight."

"Every night for almost three weeks?" Ron sounded amazed. "That's rough!"

"It gets worse," Rose waved a hand in his direction. "By tomorrow night, my mum will know about this. I can't wait to get the letter from her! Because Merlin knows that the woman will interpret this "little outburst" as having something to do with my dad."

Nobody knew what to say to something like that. Rose had suddenly cast an uncomfortable cloud over the couch. Even the other Seventh years nearby were quiet. Then Harry spoke up. "We're on your side, by the way. We all agreed before you got back. Snape had absolutely no right to bring up your father like that."

Rose just shook her head, herself speechless. If anyone knew of any sore subject for her, it was that of her father. Alistair Beckett was a well-to-do wizard who had come from a line of Irish purebloods, though he himself had been raised in England. Rose was the only child from his marriage to her mother. But rather unfortunately for the young witch, the union was short lived. When Rose was just shy of her second birthday, Alistair abruptly walked out on his young family and disappeared into the Wizarding world. Since then, Rose had been primarily raised by her mother, Charlotte Waverly. Though he hadn't vanished completely, Alistair's relationship with his daughter was tense at best. They only met three times a year for planned visits, visits that only grew more detached and isolated as Rose got older. By then, as she sat in front of the Gryffindor fireplace with her friends, Rose had not seen or spoken with her father in nearly two years.

"You're damn right, he had no fucking right," Rose finally said to Harry. "Of all things he had to use against me, it had to be that. I mean, who does he think he is that he can mention my family in front of everyone like that?"

"Obviously, he knew it would get a reaction out of you," Hermione suggested. "It just wasn't the reaction he was most likely expecting."

"I don't think Snape is so dim-witted to think that I wouldn't get angry at that."

"He still provoked you, didn't he?" said Harry. "An attack like that, he probably didn't care about how you would react."

Rose shook her head again. "Then maybe the greasy git should think twice about whose parents he brings into an argument."

"Snape knew what he was doing if you ask me," Ron added, poking at the fire. "He especially would know what's been going on with your dad lately."

Rose sneered at the words of her fellow ginger, ignoring the whispers of others around them. What Ron was referring to was not really a secret, though Rose wished that it had been. With much of her life being spent in the Muggle world, Rose knew almost nothing about what her father did in between their short visits. Little did Rose know that while she was making her own way in the world of magic, Alistair had been socializing with a dodgy crowd. He had once said that he was merely hanging around with his old friends from his days in Slytherin. But as they one by one were revealed to be working for Lord Voldemort, it was only a matter of time before Rose would come to find out the shocking truth about Alistair's real life. A few weeks after the Dark Lord's defeat, Rose received a letter from the Ministry of Magic. It stated that her father had been arrested on suspicion of being involved with Death Eater activity. He now sat in a cell in Azkaban serving out a ten month sentence.

"He's lucky I didn't slug him," said Rose, referring to Snape. "I mean, to even think of comparing me to my father. I'm nothing like that man; a blind man could see that!"

"I'm sure that's true," said Harry. Having never met the elder Beckett, his reply was rather empty.

"Thanks for that, Harry." Rose's tone was tired and sarcastic. "I can already hear my mother's voice. _"Rosella Elizabeth, you should be ashamed of yourself. Do I need to invest in a few therapy sessions for you? I believe that might do you a world of good." _She'll take one look at McGonagall's letter and she'll automatically think that my frustration was completely misdirected. In her eyes, lashing out at Snape has everything to do with being angry at my dad."

"But you are angry at your dad," said Ron, shrugging. Hermione leaned over and smacked him hard on the knee. "Well she is," he defended.

"It's true," Rose stood up and started to pace in front of the fire. "I am mad at that snide, soul-sucking, Slytherin low-life who I have the misfortune of sharing genetics with. But I'm not one to take it out on my teachers."

"Yeah, otherwise you would have been thrown out of Hogwarts a long time ago," said Harry.

The four friends laughed together. Rose gazed up to the ceiling. "C'mon, you know me better than that."

Rose sat back down on the sofa, enjoying the light hearted humor that had snuck into their conversation. Ron sat forward. "Oh, you shouldn't blame yourself too much." He tapped Rose's knee. "If you ask me, I think Snape's just trying to make up for something."

Rose caught a chuckle in her throat. "Hmm, a respectable wizard like him, what would he have to make up for?"

"Well, you know what they say about guys who try and act tough?" Ron held up a hand, his thumb and index finger pinched an inch. "You know what I mean."

Rose's bright eyes popped open with surprise, and then she squeaked as she tried to muffle her laughter. Harry was also laughing to himself while Hermione just buried her face in her hand. Between them, Rose took in a sharp breath of air. "Oh god, that's horrible!"

Ron smiled. "It's horrible, but you laughed at it."

"I'll hand it to you, Ron. Leave it to you to take loathing and spin it into a laugh."

"And it's my pleasure every time."

"Now I can understand what you see in him," Rose whispered to Hermione before staring into the burning fire. "For fuck's sake, I'm gonna laugh the next time I see the bastard. If I get in more trouble, it'll be your head, Ron."

"If that's the case, then perhaps I would go down with you." Ron cocked a red eyebrow with a sarcastic smirk.

"Don't test her, mate," said Harry. "I'm sure Rose would willingly throw you under the Knight Bus if given the chance."

"Shut up Harry," Ron rolled his eyes. "You know, it really makes me wonder. After today, what's gonna happen to us when we show up for Potions tomorrow?" He looked in Rose's direction.

"Don't look at me like that, Weasley." Rose shook her finger at him. "How am I supposed to know?"

"You don't really know much today, do you Rose?" Seamus teased, shouting from the other side of the room. Many others around him laughed, but Rose turned to glare at him, backed by Hermione. "How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry?" she shouted back so that the whole common room could hear her.

"As many times as it takes to get us those points back." Dean raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Oh, shove off! Snape was enough, just leave me alone," Rose groaned. The voices of their fellow Seventh years faded into mumbles as Rose turned around to lean forward. She cradled her face in her hands. "What does it take for them to understand that I'm having a dreadful day?"

"That reminds me," Hermione interrupted. "How does your head feel?"

"Actually, much better." Rose relaxed back into the cushions, massaging her forehead. "It's strange because after I ran out of Snape's class, I felt the pain ease up a little. It got better as the time went by, and by the time you three found me at Hagrid's, it was nearly gone. Of course, it's back now. But it's not nearly as awful as it was before."

Ron giggled. "Hey, maybe you should tell Snape to go fuck himself more often."

That made everyone in the common room laugh, even the First years in the corner. Hermione briefly wondered whether or not those children even knew exactly what they were laughing about. Rose also laughed, but not without force. She really just blushed and smiled. "Alright, I have to tell you," she explained. "Of all the things I said, that one I really didn't mean."

"Then why in the name of magic did you say it?" asked Harry, rather curious as he leaned on the sofa's arm.

"I don't know, but you try to think straight when you're so furious that your skull is cracking under the pressure." Rose laughed, half to herself "I couldn't stop myself, I swear. It just sort of exploded out of me in some kind of rebellious orgasm." Her attention was once again drawn away by the childish giggles of the nosey little First years who had no reason to find her choice of words funny.

**~HP~**

Minerva sat at her desk in her office, rhythmically tapping the hard wood with her fingers. In front of her was a list of all the faculty members. Names all up and down the parchment had been scratched out, other words elegantly scribbled beside them. The elderly witch felt a tension headache coming on as she looked down the list for the hundredth time.

It had been over two hours since Severus had stormed out of her classroom in a violent huff. Since then, Minerva had spent her time walking around and checking up on the evening plans of the school's teachers. After all, she had promised that she would have Rose assigned to somebody by the time she arrived for detention, and Severus served as a witness to this. At first, she wanted to put Rose with Remus as she felt that he wouldn't be too hard on her after what Minerva had come to find out was a hellish day for the girl. But the werewolf told her that he had a three-foot-high stack of quizzes to grade, and he didn't want to take the chance of having a student there with him while he worked. And on top of that, he didn't want to have to make her write lines only to find himself counting them later. As Minerva inquired to each of her staff members, she found that her options were quickly running out. It seemed that an alarming number of them had some sort of business to attend to that students should not be involved in, whether it be grading, tutoring, or rearranging their lesson plans. Argus Filch was already giving detention to three other students, and Minerva didn't want to take the chance of putting Rose in danger by sending her out with Hagrid. And as far as forcing the girl to do manual labor with the house elves, Minerva never did that unless she was left with absolutely no other choice.

Minerva secretly wished that it hadn't been one of those nights when she found herself buried in paperwork, otherwise she would have taken Rose herself. But after going down the entire list, Minerva came to painfully realize that there was only one person who was available to take Rose.

_Severus Snape_

Once she realized this, Minerva went to great lengths to see if there was any room for change. There had to be someone else who could take her, she couldn't put Rose with Severus. After what had happened, that would be a recipe for disaster. Minerva kept thinking back to when Severus had man-handled the young Gryffindor into her classroom. She kept thinking of the sheer fury in the Potions master's eyes, the pure rage in his voice. If Minerva could describe seeing him like that in a word, it was frightening

"Hard at work, Minerva?" A gentle voice came from behind. Minerva turned to face the headmaster as he crept in.

"Oh Albus, don't sneak up on me like that," she said, surprised. She had been so concentrated on her task that she hadn't heard him come in.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist."

"What brings you down here?"

"I was out walking before dinner and I decided to drop in," Albus explained. "What are you working on?"

"I assume you heard about what happened in one of Severus's classes?" asked Minerva.

"Ah yes, I did hear that. People in Hogsmeade heard that!"

"Well, I have been trying to find someone who can take Miss Beckett's detention," Minerva explained. "It's proven to be quite the problem."

"Why is that?" asked Albus, sitting down by his deputy's desk.

"Because, I didn't realize that all the staff have other commitments tonight and for the next few nights. At the moment, there's only one person who is available…and that's Severus."

"Oh dear, that is a bit of a problem," Albus shrugged.

Minerva shook her head. "Albus, I don't want to put her with Severus."

"Why not?" Dumbledore sounded rather curious. "If he is the one she insulted, then who better than Severus?"

"You weren't there when he brought her to me. You didn't see the look in his eyes. I don't think I've ever seen him so enraged. Albus, if I'm honest, it scared me a little."

"Minerva, we made a promise to parents. Severus knows that he cannot afford to slip up. I don't think he's going to go off murdering students any time soon. It's not in his nature anyway."

"I'm still not so sure about this." Minerva began to massage he temples. "You know as well as I do that Severus can be unpredictable at times. You've already seen what he's done to our house points. I don't wish to risk anything more."

The headmaster thought for a few minutes before turning back to Minerva. "You know, it might not be as bad as you think, Minerva. If it had been my decision, I would have done the same. I actually think it's a rather fine idea. Let us just hope that Severus and Miss Beckett use their time together productively. If anything, let's hope Miss Beckett sees the error of her ways. Then things like this might not happen again. Who knows? Maybe after two or so weeks, those two might actually learn to tolerate each other."

"Knowing Severus, I highly doubt it," Minerva shrugged. "And what if the girl comes to me and begs me to get her out?"

"We shall deal with that when the time comes. In the meantime, tell her to take it for what it is, and that is a learning experience."

Minerva sighed. "Alright Albus, I'll take your word for it. But if Miss Beckett objects, I'm telling her it was your idea."

"Of course you will, I don't mind." Albus laughed as he stood up. "Now, let me escort you to the Great hall."

**~HP~**

_**Sorry to those who were wondering if Severus was going to come to his senses. Given the circumstances he's been through, I imagined his self-control would be a little worse for wear. I promise, he is going to calm down in the next chapter.**_

_**Thank you so much to those who are now following, and those who left reviews. Please continue reading and reviewing, and make another writer happy!**_


	7. Crime and Punishment

**_Hey readers, before I get on with the next chapter, I need to address a thing or two._**

**_For those of you who felt that I was trying to make you feel sorry for Rose, I have to clarify that was not my intent. I merely wanted to show someone who was getting what they had coming to them. I understand that Rose's conflict with Slytherin is cliché, but it is a necessary evil, and it gets deeper as the story progresses._**

**_To those who thought Rose was a spoiled brat, all I can say is that we still don't really know her, and neither do some of the characters. Just hang in there for a while. Give her a chance._**

**_And as one commenter pointed out, Severus cannot report Rose to the Aurors because of the same thing that trips up cops in the real world. Just because she knows how the drug is made does not mean that she has actually made or used it, and not even Snape can prove it (I always imagined that Legilimency and Occlumency do not hold up very well in court.)_**

**_Now, all explanations aside, my only defense is that this is a very long and very complicated story. What seems two-dimensional will unfold as time goes on. And I repeat what I originally said back in chapter one. If you don't like OCs and what people do with them, I won't be offended if you choose not to read more. If you don't like Rose, or any other character I create, then no love lost. The choice is yours._**

**_Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy! _**

**__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Dinner time came and went, and Minerva soon found herself back at her desk in her classroom. She occasionally glanced down at the pile of essays in front of her, though she mostly watched the door for any sign of movement. At any moment, she knew that Rose Beckett would be arriving for detention. She rang her fingers under the desk. Rather surprisingly, the deputy headmistress was anxious. She didn't want to tell this girl that she was being sent to work with the same teacher that she so openly insulted. It was unsettling to Minerva, but she couldn't imagine what it was going to do to Rose. If Minerva could guess one thing, it was that the young witch would have been upset even if she hadn't been the cause of this mess. She obviously didn't like Severus Snape anymore than anyone else did. After so many years of teaching, Minerva just knew that she was most likely about to witness a fit of teenage rage.

If that wasn't enough weight on her mind, Severus wasn't any easier to break the news to. When the Potions master failed to turn up for dinner, Albus volunteered to venture down to the dungeons and inform him of the arrangements. He had been light-hearted enough to believe Pomona Sprout's jokes that the man would actually take great joy in such an idea. But that wasn't the case at all. After a brief moment of frantic thought, Severus seemed to come up with as few ideas as Minerva had originally. And after actually sinking to the low level of begging his headmaster, he then excused himself and adjourned into his office. As Albus turned to return upstairs, he thought he heard something that sounded suspiciously like angry snarling and shattering glass.

'_Well…that went better than I thought.'_

After hearing this, Minerva further questioned her judgment. Would it have been less dangerous to send Rose out into the Forbidden Forest? If Severus was still that livid, it was anyone's guess as to how he would act then. She then remembered Albus saying that by that time, Severus might have calmed down enough to put Rose to work. He also reminded her that hexing someone into oblivion without justifiable reason was just not in Severus's nature. Minerva just had to try and trust the headmaster's confidence that Severus had enough self-control to not hurt the girl. And even so, Rose was a proud Gryffindor. If Severus so much as uttered a jinx, she would do well to report him. But that still left the problem of making them both get over their emotions long enough to effectively adhere to their duties.

Maybe it was time to try out Dumbledore's it's-only-for-a-few-weeks speech.

It was almost half past seven when Rose finally arrived, dragging her feet across the stone floor. She looked quite tired, but still held herself with a modest pride. Obviously, she just wanted to get this over with. "Evening Professor McGonagall," she quietly said. "So where do you want me to go?"

The elder witch set aside her papers and sighed. "It grieves me to inform you of this, Miss Beckett, but due to staff commitments that I was unaware of, you will be serving detention with Professor Snape until further notice."

Rose was quiet, eerily quiet. But in the absence of protest, her eyes slowly got wider and her face tightened. Her mouth dropped open as she blinked, struggling to find words. "You…have got…to be kidding. You say I have detention with Snape? No, you cannot be serious."

"I'm afraid that I am being serious, dear. It wasn't my first choice, but I wasn't left with many options."

"So what you mean to say is that _all of the professors _are busy?"

McGonagall nodded. "In so many words."

"Pardon me, Professor, but surely there must be something else I can do." Rose's calm voice was beginning to knot up into panic. "What about Mr. Filch?"

"He already has his hands full with three Third years."

"What about the house-elves? Can't you give them nights off and let me do their chores for a while?"

"In my many years," McGonagall explained. "I have met quite a few students who would take Professor Snape over the school's laundry any day."

"Professor, don't make me do this!" Rose began to get more desperate. "Don't leave me alone with him. After today, Merlin knows what he'll do with me!"

"Miss Beckett, if there was such a threat, would I trust you in Professor Snape's hands?"

Rose shut her mouth, unable to produce an answer that was good enough. McGonagall continued. "I understand if you are not happy about this, but you know well that you have no claim to protest. You gave up that right when you chose to be disrespectful. Let us hope that you learn your lesson through this. And might I remind you that this arrangement will only be for two and a half weeks. You can survive for a few days."

"I could go completely mad in a few fucking days!" said Rose, gritting her teeth.

McGonagall glared at her over her square spectacles. "Miss Beckett, we already have negative one hundred and ten points. Do not make that negative one hundred and thirty with such language. As far as your sanity is concerned, do what you can to hold yourself together, though I believe that you are exaggerating."

"But what if I'm not?" Rose asked. "What if it's unbearable?"

"Give it until the end of this week. If both you and Professor Snape come forward and express to me that you feel this is not working, then I will try to make arrangements to have you work with someone else. Does that comfort you?" The younger witch nodded. "Good. And one more thing. In the time you have spent since this afternoon, I hope had a chance to realize just how lucky you are. It is not often that Professor Snape will get so angry over an argument with one of his students, and he demanded that you be withdrawn from Advanced Potions."

That was certainly something to get Rose's attention, and her brow furrowed at the slight. "But I need that class. The only good jobs in Muggle Relations are in the Ministry, and I need a Potions NEWT to apply."

"I know, and that is why I wouldn't allow it," said McGonagall. "I am a disciplinarian, but I am also a teacher, and it is my job to provide all of you with the best opportunities for life outside this school. However, if you embarrass yourself and your house in such an appalling manner ever again, you will not receive this clemency twice. Now kindly go down to the Potions classroom. Professor Snape is waiting for you."

Rose turned and sluggishly walked back towards the door. But before she went back out into the hall, McGonagall stood up from her desk. "Oh, Miss Beckett!" she called, getting Rose's attention.

"Yes Professor?"

"I just wished to tell you that I finished reading your essay a short while ago. And I have to say that it was well written, however late it was." Rose's face lit up with surprise and joy, but McGonagall quickly brought her back down from that. "It isn't enough to win back any house points, but you can rest easy knowing that you will have a fair mark."

"Thank you, Professor!" Rose smiled. Finally, something good!

"You're welcome, dear. Now off with you!"

**~HP~**

Rose worked hard to suppress the aggravated growl that was caught in her throat. She wouldn't have dared to let it slip in front of McGonagall; aside from using her post as deputy headmistress to overrule Snape's outrageous demands, that woman had the power to expel her if she so wished. She continued down the corridors in her slow, tired pace. But what in the name of Godric Gryffindor was propelling her feet forward? If Rose wanted to do anything, it was to turn right around and dash back to her common room and the safety of her little dormitory.

The thought of facing Snape alone was maddening. She would never openly admit to it, but Rose was growing more and more nervous as she got closer to the dungeons. She hadn't felt this type of anxiety since she was twelve. In fact, Rose was almost embarrassed by her unease. She was a Gryffindor, for Prospero's sake! And yet Rose felt like there was a heavy rock in the pit of her stomach. She was going to be at Snape's mercy and it was her own damn fault. Rational thought was almost impossible when Rose thought of just what Snape was capable of doing. Harry had told her enough of his own experiences, and even he seemed a bit worried about the former Death Eater's behavior. Of course, that's when Rose remembered the whole "Former Death Eater" thing. She felt like she was about to be sick.

Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. What was she doing with all this fretting? And why was the fault only hers? Snape was as much to blame as she was. If that greasy slime off the bottom of her shoe hadn't provoked her, she wouldn't have felt the need to do the same. To Rose, this unjust detention was all because of that miserable git. Everything would have been fine if Snape had just driven Harry to near aneurism like always. But no, he had to be the king of the Slytherins and kick her while she was down. And did no one take into account that he disrespected her and brought her family into this rubbish? Her fear gave way to anger. Rose could feel her headache coming back again, along with a tight hold on her chest.

Alright, they were both at fault. She was going to pay for her vicious words, and Snape was going to try to walk – no – stomp all over her. But Rose knew that to be the bigger person in this whole conflict, she had to protect her dignity. She hastily decided that she was not going to become the sad little victim. If anything, she had to do away with her useless cowardice. There were many words that one could use to describe Rose, and coward was never one of them. Why should that change now? She told herself that she had to hold herself high, be the woman she knew she was. After all, Rose wasn't a child anymore. Why should she be scared like one? In that moment, the red haired witch mustered up so much courage and pride that would have made Godric Gryffindor himself proud.

Rose passed a good number of students on her way down, and each one felt the need to stare at her as she calmly walked on by. Evidently, they had all taken a guess as to where she was heading. With the attention she was getting, it was as though Rose was walking to her execution, and she didn't have a single doubt that some thought exactly that. She started to notice a pattern with each group she came across. The Gryffindors still looked ashamed and unsympathetic to her situation. The Hufflepuffs generally seemed that they felt sorry for her. The Ravenclaws were obviously pondering something that they didn't really have much business pondering. And the Slytherins…well, laughed at her. Parkinson and her pack of bitches-in-heat led the way in the raucous giggles and the obscene choice of words. Rose soon found herself running to the dark lower corridors to get away from the unneeded harassment.

She was approaching the Potions classroom when out of the shadows behind her came a dark figure. She didn't turn, choosing to ignore the footsteps stalking her as she continued on her way. Rose didn't notice as the torch light illuminated a pale, thin face and shone off blonde hair. "Returning to the scene of the crime, are we Beckett?"

Rose clamped her jaw shut against the snarl. "Leave me alone, Malfoy."

"Oh, but how can I?" Malfoy was sneering like he had too many times in the past. "A miserable little bint, all alone without her loyal friends. I couldn't find an easier target if I tried. And for it to be Barmy Bloody Beckett, it makes my night!"

"I'll bet I made your whole day." Rose still didn't turn around, seeing the classroom door come into view. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were looking for an encore performance."

"Ah, but you don't know any better. It's a wonder you know your own name!"

"Your little lady love told you to say that, didn't she?" The witch stopped to finally turn and glare at Malfoy, who looked quite amused.

"What if she did?" he asked, stepping closer. "And what defense do you have to offer, huh? You made a mockery of yourself and your house, and nothing you can say can deny that. It was almost cathartic to watch you completely fall apart in front of Snape and all of us."

"Still on Snape's side, I see," Rose cocked her head to the side. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I've heard talk that you looked scared shitless as you ran from class with your tail between your legs."

Malfoy's vile grin melted away, replaced by an irritated scowl. "Obviously, your mother never taught you to hold your tongue. I wonder if she realizes what a rude daughter she's brought up."

"Leave my mother out of this." Rose's voice fell to a low whisper.

"Ha, your threats mean nothing!" Malfoy laughed. "If you were half the witch you think you are, today would not have happened, wouldn't it? My, you have some bollocks to insult Snape to his face. If I were you, I would be soiling my knickers at the thought of what he could do."

Rose shook her head with a smug smile. "I'm not afraid of him."

"You say that now, but what about when you're left alone without Saint Potter to protect you? I believe you have good reason to be afraid, Beckett."

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

The pompous blonde took a step back at the shout, his face taking on a look of mock sympathy. Rose took a deep breath, trying to calm herself again. Thinking that the pesky Slytherin was finished, she rolled her eyes as she turned to the Potions classroom door. But just before she could knock, Malfoy laughed again. "Let's hope you live to see the light of day, Rosie!"

He didn't know what hit him. In a moment faster than light, before he could realize his mistake, Malfoy found himself pinned up against the wall. Rose had hold of his collar with impressive strength. "What did you call me?" she snarled. She didn't give the whimpering bloke much time to answer. "I swear, Malfoy; if I ever hear you call me that again, becoming a ferret will be the least of your worries."

She would have continued with her threat, but she was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Startled, Rose turned to see Snape standing in the doorway. Seeing the scene before him, his cold glare served as a silent warning. He stepped back inside the room. Rose turned back Malfoy, still trembling at the hands so close to his throat. She didn't need to say anything to the coward; making him shit himself would be enough. She let go, and Malfoy dashed off down the hall.

"You'll regret that!" he shouted. "You'll bloody regret that, you hear?!" Rose sighed as she shook her head, and then quietly went inside the classroom, shutting the door behind her.

The Potions room was dimly lit by the light of a few small torches and candles. It also reeked with the smell of a failed potion. Snape sat behind his desk, staring at some sort of parchment with a quill in his hand. He glanced up to Rose slightly as she stood in the doorway. He then went back to his work.

"Miss Beckett," he said in a low scratchy voice

"Reporting for detention, sir," Rose responded in the way that Harry and Ron had instructed her.

"Yes, so I see." Snape's cold tone suggested that he didn't care about Rose's diligence. He also seemed to be doing his best to pay as little attention to her as possible.

Rose stood uncomfortably in front of Snape's desk, ringing her hands and glancing about the room. The awkward silence only made it worse. Snape continued with his work. Rose cleared her throat, causing Snape to slowly lift his head and glare up at her. "Is…is there anything you wanted me to do?" she asked.

"That," Snape pointed one long, thin finger to the back of the room. Rose looked over her shoulder at an area where a number of cauldrons had been left to stew by another class. She groaned as her eyes drifted to the end of the line. This very unlucky student's cauldron had shattered and melted, and there were great splashes of some revolting liquid all over the table, the floor, and even up the wall.

"Clean it up," Snape commanded.

"Yes Professor," said Rose, done with disobeying the Potions master. She was reaching into her robes when she heard Snape's voice again. "Miss Beckett,"

"Yes sir?"

"Give me your wand."

"What?!" Rose exclaimed. "Why?"

"I want you to clean that work station, but you cannot use any magic. I want to eliminate any temptation," Snape explained. He pulled out his own wand and transfigured a bucket of soapy water and a scrubbing brush. "You have to do this the Muggle way."

In her head, Rose was cursing the whole world. But she wasn't going to press her luck. With the misfortunes that had befallen her that stormy day, she might end up cleaning up after one of Hagrid's pets. Snape set aside his wand and turned back to her, arm extended. Reluctantly, Rose brought forth her own ebony wand and laid it in Snape's waiting hand. He carefully, yet less than gently, put it into one of his desk drawers and shut it hard. He quickly set a charm on the handle. The girl couldn't get at her wand now, not unless she wanted her hand to turn to stone.

Snape stood up and picked up the brush, dropping it into the soapy water. He picked up the bucket and hauled it over to Rose, setting it down on the table she leaned on. She stared at him with weary eyes. "Well," he snapped. "Don't just stand there. Get to work."

Rose started at the mess and grimaced. "Sir, I don't have any way of knowing what that mess was supposed to be. How am I to know that there isn't anything dangerous in that?"

Snape growled. "Would I be making you clean it by hand if there was?"

"You probably would," said Rose without missing a beat.

Snape snarled with frustration as he pulled out his wand and said, "_Accio gloves_!" A drawer snapped open as a pair of worn leather gloves floated over to him. He shoved them into Rose's hands "There, happy?" Rose just glared at him as she took the gloves and nodded. "Then get to work," snapped the Potions master.

Snape walked back behind his desk and eased down into his chair. He leaned his elbows on the wooden tabletop as he cradled his head in his hands. He was thoroughly exhausted after his rotten day. His stresses and lasting illness had resulted in a massive headache that threatened to shatter his skull. He did his best to hide this from the insufferable student. It was a good idea that he decided to sit down; he was actually beginning to feel a bit dizzy. Hopefully, this didn't mean that he was going to be sick again. Trying to banish any thought of that from his mind, Snape took hold of his quill and went back to his paperwork.

Rose took off her robe and flung it over another desk. She not-so-delicately rolled up her sleeves and yanked on the gloves. She looked at the bucket, and then looked back at Snape, who was glaring at her out of the corner of his inky black eye. She took this as his way of saying that he was prepared to take off more points if he damn well pleased. She continued to stare down with her professor as she dunked her gloved hand into the bucket and brought forth the brush. Then, without bothering to let the brush drip, she let her hand fall heavily onto the table and began to scrub the surface. Suds soon covered the desk, the bubbles turning an odd shade of orange. The room was soon filled with the annoying scratching of the brush fibers on wood, and Snape's quill tip on rough parchment.

Every so often, Rose would look up to where Snape sat. The sallow wizard was again ignoring her and generally appeared unfazed by her progress. As she scrubbed, their row replayed again and again in Rose's head. And every time, the mention of her father stuck out. She might have regretted some of the things she said, but what about Snape? Was it possible that after he came down from his ridiculous, rage-fueled rampage, he actually thought about what he had done? Could it be that somewhere deep down, Snape had a conscience? Perhaps he had realized that he had crossed the line, leaving Rose with no choice but to do the same. For Rose, the best satisfaction she could get now was a simple admission of regret.

She certainly wasn't a coward.

"So," she looked up at Snape. "Do you have anything to say to me, Professor?"

"No," The professor didn't look up from his parchment.

"You don't want to apologize to me?"

"Why would I want to do that?" asked Snape as he looked up with an arched eyebrow.

"Sir, you disrespected me in front of the class," explained Rose.

"Therein lies my point. Why should I apologize to you for disrespecting you in front of the class when you yourself did the same to me?"

Rose growled at how her morality told her that he was absolutely right. "Well sir, I think you know it was wrong to bring my father into that," she said in a last attempt.

"I did what I had to, Miss Beckett," Snape said, frustration beginning to color the tone of his voice.

Rose could have gone further. She could have mentioned that thanks to Harry, she had enough dirt on Snape to insult him into oblivion. But she figured it would mean that she do laundry for the Slytherins every Saturday for the rest of term, or the rest of her life for that matter. She decided to leave it alone and went back to scrubbing.

**~HP~**

The hours slowly ticked by as Rose worked herself to a sweat. She panted and grunted as she struggled to get the sticky, congealed potion off of the desktop. Articles of clothing now lay on a nice neat pile on another desk. In between bouts of vigorous scrubbing, she had shed her house sweater and undid her tie. She had also twisted her long red hair into a contorted bun, tied off with her red ribbon. It took quite a lot of time and effort, but eventually the brush slid across the wood with no friction. Rose sighed with relief as she found a rag to wipe the table dry. Once the last of the soapy water was sopped up, Rose used a stool to help hoist herself up onto the desk to better reach the dried splashes on the wall. She hadn't spoken a word to Snape at all in hours.

The Potions master was still watching her from his desk at the front of the room, glancing up from his now finished paperwork. He was actually rather impressed at the speed and stamina of the young woman. Severus had assumed that by eighteen years old, the Beckett girl would end up as lazy as her father had been in his day, especially when faced with manual Muggle labor. And yet here she was, scrubbing until her pale, freckled face turned red. Severus couldn't help but feel a bit bemused. At least she finally had enough sense to shut up.

Severus looked up to the clock to see that it was almost ten o'clock. He debated if he had tormented Rose enough for one night; she had to come back tomorrow night after all. But letting her go would probably be better for his sanity rather than hers. His head and body both ached with persistent fatigue.

"There, finished."

Rose's voice pulled Snape out of his internal thoughts. He looked up to see her toss aside her wet, grungy rag. "What was that?" he asked, delirious.

"I said I'm finished, Professor," Rose repeated.

Severus stood up and walked around his desk. Rose stepped aside to let him inspect her work. Severus looked down at the desktop and was surprised to not see one speck of dust left. His black eyes travelled up the wall to see the same. There was no evidence of that disastrous excuse for a potion. He had to admit it to himself; the Beckett girl had done a good job. Relief washed over him. He was about to dismiss Rose when his gaze fell on his closed office door. He suddenly got another idea, cocking his eyebrow as he looked back at the tired girl.

"Very well," he sighed.

"May I go now, Professor?" asked Rose, hopefully.

"No, you may not," Severus sneered weakly.

"Why not?" Rose objected, trying to ignore the tension in her chest. "I did what you told me to do. I worked really hard to get that. Sir, don't you know what time it is?"

"I do, and I say that I'm not finished with you."

"Alright, fine. What else do you want me to do?"

Snape motioned for her to follow him. Silently, he led her over to his office. "Since you finished cleaning that work station so quickly, you can tidy up my office." He pushed the door open.

Rose had to hold back a gasp at the sight of the shattered glass and spilled liquids, the flotsam and jetsam of Snape's anger. Wisely, she suppressed the urge to ask her professor what the fuck happened. Instead, she looked around the room and said "Pardon me sir, but I don't think "tidy up" is the proper phrase."

"Quiet," warned Snape.

Rose entered the office, watching her step. A swish through the air told her that Snape was wielding his wand. Rose turned to see that the brush and bucket had become a broom and dustpan. Another flick sent them flying into her hands. Snape turned back to her, tucking his wand away. "Clean until the room is as spotless as that tabletop. Make sure it never looked like this." He walked over to his desk, tediously stepping around the mess of glass and potions he had created. "It would be wise to leave the gloves on," he said, sitting at his desk and leaning back in his chair. He retrieved a book from a desk drawer.

'_No need to tell me that, I'm not stupid,' _Rose thought to herself as she gripped the broom. She had a hard time trying to think of how she was going to work around the multi-colored, potent-smelling liquids. She gulped as she looked up at Snape, who was ignoring her again. "Professor," she said, getting his attention. "The potions, what do you want me to do?"

Fortunately for her, Snape had enough sense to know that it wasn't a good idea for Rose to touch the raw ingredients on the floor, regardless of what her class performance suggested. A wave of his wand saw to that. He then turned his attention back to his reading. Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise. She couldn't even get up the courage to thank him. She simply sighed deeply before setting herself to sweeping.

As she swept the sharp fragments into little piles, Rose would let her eyes wander to Snape. He was hunched over his book, cradling his head in his hand. And every time she looked, something odd tugged at her conscience. As relaxed as Snape was trying to appear, he still looked so tired. His face was pasty and Rose could faintly see dark circles forming under his eyes. Though he no doubt was taking pleasure in having her as his personal maid, he still appeared on edge.

"Sir, are you alright?" asked Rose, almost forgetting that this was Snape she was talking to.

"Why do you ask?" Snape snarled. It was as though she had insulted him again without realizing it.

"Nothing, you just seem a bit tense." Rose kneeled down to sweep up a glass pile. She avoided eye contact with the testy Potions master.

"Well, your presence isn't exactly desirable at the moment."

Rose turned away, trying to hide the pink staining her cheeks. "I suppose I had that coming."

"You certainly did." Snape shook his head at her. "I really am beginning to question your common sense, Beckett. No better than any of your housemates if you ask me. My wellbeing is none of your concern, so kindly refrain from sticking your nose into places it doesn't belong."

He looked down again. But he started to massage his temples, shutting his eyes. From where she sat on the floor, Rose could tell that the man had one heck of a headache. Even though she had been subjected to the same agony that day, she didn't sympathize with Snape in the slightest. In her view, he got what he had coming to him. Rose had to work hard to suppress the sneer that she so wanted to throw at Snape.

'_Karma's a bitch…'_

The two of them went right back to ignoring each other after that, which really seemed to be the best thing to do. It certainly made it easier to get through the detention if they pretended that the other didn't exist. The silence in the office was almost deafening. Both teacher and student were so wrapped up in their own little worlds that neither of them heard the classroom door creak open.

"Ah, just what I love to see. A student hard at work." Both Rose and Snape jumped at the sound of Dumbledore's voice, looking to where he stood in the office doorway.

"Professor Dumbledore," said Rose, nodding her head to him.

"Headmaster," Snape simply stated. "What brings you down here at this hour?"

"I just thought I'd pop in and see how things are working between you two. And since Miss Beckett appears to be unharmed, it seems to me that all is well. Professor McGonagall with be relieved to know that I was right and she was wrong." Dumbledore smiled at his own comment, but neither the younger man nor the much younger girl were amused. "So Miss Beckett, is this all that Professor Snape has had you do?"

"It's more like a bonus," said Rose as she bent down to sweep up another pile. She let her eyes roll away from Snape, who had closed his book with a hard smack.

"Now what does she mean by that, Severus?" Dumbledore turned as the Potions master slowly rose from his chair.

"I had her clean the workstation in the far corner." Severus walked over to his office door and pointed to the clean table. "A Hufflepuff's potion combusted while it was fermenting."

The elderly headmaster walked over and stared down at the surface of the wood. "My goodness, I can almost see myself in this desk! Miss Beckett did a marvelous job."

"It's actually rather impressive considering how it looked an hour or so ago."

On the office floor, Rose's eyebrow twitched. Did Snape just compliment her to the headmaster? _'Oh, that's a bit odd. Must be because it's Dumbledore he's talking to. Thank God for that loony old man.' _With a shake of her head, she went back to her work, trying to tune out the conversation in the other room.

As Dumbledore examined the desk and walls, Severus slowly moved back to his chair at the front of the room, trying to hide his discomfort from the headmaster. He sat down, lightheaded and queasy. Just walking the distance from his office to his classroom seemed to drain him further of energy.

"I should tell Minerva that it may not be necessary to reassign Miss Beckett after all. The two of you seem to be handling this quite well." The Potions master could only nod, too weary to speak. He was wishing to high heaven that the old loon would just think of something better to do than pester him.

"Severus, are you alright?"

Severus looked up to notice Dumbledore looking at him with a concerned look in his old eyes. He growled as he shot up out of his seat. "Why must everyone be so concerned about my health?! Minerva, Lupin, that Beckett girl –,"

"I have a name, you know!" Rose shouted from inside the other room.

Severus rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Fine, _Miss_ Beckett!" he shouted back before turning back to the white haired wizard. "And now you; it's comforting to know that you don't trust my word anymore. If I say that I'm alright, then I'm alright, and that'll be the end of it."

"But our concerns are not unmerited," said Dumbledore. "You don't look well at all tonight. Perhaps you are coming down with something."

"I don't get sick, sir," Severus flat out denied. He quickly turned back to head back into his office. But that suddenly sent the room into a three-sixty spin. His stomach flipped and the blood rushed from his aching head. Severus gripped the edge of his desk to prevent the evident faint. He heard the sound of a door swinging into a slam. He looked up to see a closed office door, effectively locking Rose in. Dumbledore was at his side before he could blink.

"Severus, what's wrong?" he gently pushed the younger wizard back into his chair.

"Nothing, I just moved too quickly, that's all."

"Have you had anything to eat tonight? I had hoped you had when you didn't come up to supper."

"I…wha…no, I haven't," Severus stammered.

"Oh, no wonder! You probably haven't eaten anything since lunchtime, and even that wasn't much." Dumbledore tapped Severus on the shoulder before turning to leave. "I'll have the house-elves whip something up for you. Would you like me to dismiss Miss Beckett for you?"

The old man suddenly found himself with a long, pale finger pointing at his face. "_Do NOT _send that girl away. I don't care if you are the headmaster; she is mine until I say different."

Dumbledore gave a little nod, humoring Severus. He opened the office door and poked his head in. "Keep up the good work, my dear," he said.

"Will do, sir," Rose's voice echoed out.

Dumbledore walked over to the classroom door. "You know, what happened this afternoon is actually starting to make sense." He lightly chuckled. "But in all seriousness; I understand that you have your priorities, Severus. But depriving yourself of nourishment will only do more harm than good."

"I know that."

"Then you should take better care of yourself. I need my teachers to be in tip-top shape, you especially. Good night." Then the old wizard disappeared into the darkness of the dungeon halls. After the door clicked shut, Severus groaned. Dumbledore had to see him vulnerable; he just had to! Now that crazy codger was probably going to go to great lengths to ensure his wellbeing, just what Severus needed!

'_Damn that twinkling eye!'_

It wasn't long before two small house-elves popped in carrying two trays. One of them reached up to set a steaming bowl of beef stew before him, along with a small loaf of bread and a glass of wine. At least the meddling fool recognized his need for liquor. He noticed the second elf placing another plate on his desk. It was another two loaves of bread and a goblet of pumpkin juice. A little note in purple ink rested against the goblet.

_For Miss Beckett, if she desires…_

Severus just shook his head. After the little creatures Disapparated, Snape looked at the food before him with caution. It had potential to cause him more trouble tomorrow, if that morning had been any indication. But at the same time, he felt like he was going to keel over at any moment. Dumbledore was right to say that Severus had not eaten a thing since a rather meager lunch. Perhaps a late supper would help him get through the rest of the night. It should at least get rid of the headache. Yes, the headache had to go.

He picked up the spoon and gently blew before taking his first bite. He had to hand it to the house-elves, they did make good meals. He felt his body relax as he slowly tucked into his meal. But then he noticed the other plate. He had almost forgotten that there was a teenaged girl unsupervised in his office.

"Beckett, get out here!" he called.

The door creaked open and Rose appeared. She noticed the food with wrinkled eyebrows. "What's this?"

"Courtesy of the headmaster," Snape pointed to the bread and drink. "Eat."

Rose was cautious in her steps, questioning why Snape would take pity and feed her. If anything, he probably wanted to watch her starve. But if it was on Dumbledore's orders, then she shouldn't have much to worry about. She also didn't want to give the greasy git a chance to change his mind. She took hold of the plate and goblet without so much as glancing at her professor. She then walked to the middle of the room and sat down at the desk that she shared with Hermione. Upon reading Dumbledore's note herself, she took a long sip of pumpkin juice. She tore off a bit of bread and stuffed it into her mouth.

Snape leaned forward to look into his office. From what he could see, Rose was almost finished as the floor was rid of the large piles of glass. Alright; now he was curious. "I'm surprised,"

"Pardon?" Rose lifted up her eyes to Snape.

"I'm surprised with how efficient you have been tonight. I would have expected for you to complete both jobs in twice your time. I would have expected you to be as lazy as you were this afternoon."

"Well," Rose looked quite smug. "I think that shows who the bigger adult is right now."

Snape held back a snort. "Miss Beckett, you are hardly an adult by anyone's standard."

"And judging from today, neither are you."

The Potions master's eyebrow developed a distinct arch as his grip on his spoon tightened. "What are you talking about?"

"Professor Snape, did you seriously think that hammering me with questions would scare me into not being late? Was that the best you could come up with? I mean, come on!"

"But you didn't know the answers, now did you?" said Snape.

Rose stopped talking and let her eyes wander off, biting off a bit of bread. "Well…no. But I was having a bad day, and it –,"

"It made you completely incompetent in this class?" Snape finished her sentence.

"It made me incompetent in every class. Professor, do you have any idea what kind of a day I had? I don't know what I liked more; falling asleep at breakfast, the massive headache, the total inability to perform spells, losing close to four hundred points total, or getting caught in the rain while walking on my tired aching feet!"

The twitch in the corner of Snape's mouth betrayed his amusement. "It still gives you no excuse to be rude to your peers," he said.

Rose rung her fingers, pressure building up in her head. "Oh, and I suppose it gives you the right to bully us when you need to blow off some steam?"

"That's another thing entirely, Miss Beckett."

Snape looked back down at his own plate. His head shot back up when Rose smacked her hand down onto the desktop. "Clearly, you don't understand me," she said in a low voice, struggling with control. "Pardon my language sir, but my day was bloody fucking horrible. And you made it that much worse. What they've been saying upstairs is true; we wouldn't be sitting here if you hadn't chosen to humiliate me in front of the class. With the stress that I was under when you put me on the spot like that, I couldn't take it."

"And that's when you decided to fight back," Snape finished for her again.

Rose leaned her elbows on the table. "What else could I have done?"

"It might have occurred to you to control yourself." Snape locked eyes with the student glaring back at him. "Miss Beckett, I've had many students mouth off to me in seventeen years. But none could have come close to you're little outburst."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Rose thought out loud.

"On the contrary, I found it to be rather disappointing."

Rose ripped at her bread. "Excuse me, Professor?"

Snape took a moment to indulge in his meal, but he did eventually begin speaking. "You have been my student for nearly eight years. When you are forced to interact with someone for that long, you come to expect certain things from them. You have always been one of those well-behaved students; obedient to school rules. I merely thought that you were intelligent enough to know when to shut your mouth. And apparently, I was wrong about your intelligence in more ways than one."

Air was forced out of Rose's tight lips. "Sir, I refuse to sit here and let you insult me."

"I speak the truth," said Snape. "You knew the answers to everyone of those questions, but you let your emotions get in your way. Regardless of what your school records may suggest, your little cheek did nothing but show me that you are classless and immature."

In a brief moment of poor judgment, Rose seriously debated risking the wards on the drawer to get at her wand and hex Snape into next week. "Care to let me explain myself before you go off and judge my character," she said, taking a quick sip of pumpkin juice. "First of all, you have no real right to criticize my natural intelligence. It's like you already said; I knew the answers to every one of those questions, and the proof is in the exams that you have been_ forced_ to grade. I'm perfectly capable in potion making, and you know it. It would be incredibly hypocritical for you to say that I'm on the daft side. Secondly, under the circumstances, I didn't have much control over my reaction. If someone calls me out like that, it's my response to want to fight back."

"You never did that before," Snape pointed out.

"Well sir, perhaps this last year has hardened me up a bit."

Snape smirked at her comment; leave it to a Gryffindor to try and use their war-time exploits to gain sympathy. "Well now, if only you had enough sense to defend yourself in a classier, more lady-like manner."

"And what sir, was the manner that I displayed?" asked Rose, quite curious.

"You basically showed me that you are an eighteen year-old with the emotional control of a small child. After all, why else would you so easily reveal certain information to a professor without considering the consequences?"

Rose realized what he was talking about rather quickly. "Oh! Look Professor, if this is about that whole Bubble Juice thing –,"

"Which reminds me," interrupted Snape. "Where, pray tell, did you learn that gem? Because if my memory serves me correctly, you did _not_ learn that in this class."

Rose hesitated and took another swig of pumpkin juice. "That's for me to know and for you to never find out," she tried to beat around the bush.

"Come Miss Beckett, you obviously had to learn it somehow. Children are not born with the list of ingredients of illegal potions embedded into their brains."

Rose's gaze left her professor and wandered across the room. She knew that he probably wasn't going to back down about this, not when he had her backed into some unseen corner. He was probably thinking that he was about to uncover some illegal drug scandal at Hogwarts.

"You do realize that with a touch more proof, I can very easily turn you into the Ministry and you could find yourself in more trouble than you have ever been here…or you could just tell me now."

Yep, she was right. She sighed as she finished off her bread. She knew very well that in a case like this, it was probably a good idea to tell the truth. After all, it wasn't like it mattered if she was ratting out others. She was probably never going to see the other members of this particular party ever again. She looked back at Snape, who was also beginning to finish off his own meal.

"Alright," she said.

"Alright what?"

"Alright, I'll tell you. But am I going to get in more trouble for this?"

"That depends,"

Rose took a deep breath, summoning up all her courage. "It was my fifth year, when Umbridge had control of the school. I had some acquaintances in Ravenclaw that were in their seventh year. We kept talking about ways to get back at Umbridge, you know?"

"These acquaintances of yours, what were their names?"

"_That _I will not say, but one of them had learned the potion beforehand. I'm not sure how or why, but she did. They came up with this idea to brew the potion and then pass it on to my friend's boyfriend. He was going to slip it into her tea."

What Rose heard next was the most startling thing she had encountered that day. It was the sound of Snape laughing to himself behind his hand. "Do you find this amusing, Professor?" asked Rose.

"No, Miss Beckett. I just got the mental image of Dolores Umbridge under the influence," Snape explained, not looking up. "Oh, that's rich!"

"You see my point then?" Rose smirked. "It would have been hysterical."

"I take it that you never carried out this little plan of yours?"

"They never started the potion. People were starting to catch on and I told them to back off before it got back to Umbridge somehow." Rose looked at Snape with a look of complete honesty. "Sir, you can test me under Veritaserum. I have never brewed that potion and I never intend to. I never want to use that knowledge for my own benefit."

Snape studied her face intently. The girl did look honest enough, and her voice held the same integrity. In fact, it was possibly the most honest of any student he had seen all day. He did not want to allow himself to admit defeat to this young Gryffindor, but in his exhausted state of mind, he wasn't left with many options.

"It's believable,"

"It is?" Rose exclaimed, unable to believe that she had done what a Gryffindor had never been able to do for years.

"You seem honest enough. But don't think that I won't take up your offer about testing you under Veritaserum."

Rose rolled her eyes. Oh well, it was cool while it lasted. Snape continued. "Because if I did, and found out that was a lie, I _will_ turn you into the Ministry on drug charges. Oh, I wonder if they would be kind to you and just put you through potion addiction therapy at St. Mungo's."

The red-haired witch was unmoved. "Professor, I'm not lying."

"After seventeen years of teaching, you learn to know better."

Rose stood up and brought her plate over to Snape's desk, setting it down atop his plate. "But you believe me, right? I'm not in trouble?"

Snape shrugged, too tired to even bother with a better answer. But Rose was insulted by this. She backed away, clenching her fists. "You just don't care, do you?" The Potions master let his eyes roll to the ceiling as he downed the last of his wine. "If I'm honest, Miss Beckett, I didn't care if I got an answer out of you."

"Unbelievable!" Rose exclaimed.

"You know, it seems to me that I might not be the only one here tonight who doesn't care these days."

"Care to elaborate, Professor?" Rose arched her eyebrow.

"If you ask me, you don't care about this class anymore. Your lousy marks give that away."

"My grades haven't changed."

"Bollocks!" exclaimed Snape, snapping his head up. "Don't think that I didn't notice how your grades began to fall after your O.W.L.s. And now you have quite a bit of catching up to do, don't you? Care to explain yourself there?"

"I'm sure you know how hard it is to get a fair mark when Slughorn is more interested in someone who doesn't deserve the credit," said Rose. "You are no better, but at least you were fair. Those slipping grades you were so quick to point out, I chalk it up to unfair favoritism. My abilities have never had any bearing on them whatsoever."

"Apparently, today you were too dense to realize that I was asking you Third to Fourth year questions."

"Oh, and I suppose that means that I don't care?" Snape could detect a hint of sarcasm in the girl's voice. So he answered, just as sarcastically, "Either that or you prove my original point that you're completely daft and hopelessly incompetent."

Suddenly, Rose rushed forward and planted her hands on Snape's desk. She stared straight into his cold black eyes. "What is your problem?" she asked. "You've been barking up a tree all damn day, terrorizing anyone with the misfortune to get in your way. I'm not the only one they're talking about up there. I can recall at least three different First years whom you ridiculed to the point where you made them cry. And I'm almost embarrassed to say that because of you, Hufflepuff is leading the houses with just two hundred and seventy points."

"You are a very brave young lady to ask such a bold question," said Snape in a low voice.

"Will you stop mocking me?!" Rose demanded. "With all that's happened today, I deserve some kind of explanation."

Snape snarled. "Who are you to say what you deserve?"

Rose backed away with a strong huff. She turned to Snape's office, still needing to finish her work. "You know, a lot of people have been telling me to have some patience with you. So far, it's been one of the most difficult things I've had to do. And yet, I'm still trying. Perhaps you can consider doing the same for me; that is unless Dumbledore has already given you a talking-to." She pushed the door open.

"You try to have patience with anyone when you are completely sick to your stomach."

Rose stopped dead in her tracks. Snape, now silently holding his breath, watched her with wide eyes. What had possessed him to say that so suddenly? But that thought was nothing compared to the realization that he had just opened up to a student, the Beckett girl of all people. And now that she knew this, she would probably do everything in her power to ruin what was left of his night.

Rose slowly turned back to face the Potions master, and to Snape's surprise, her face was long and her eyes were ripe with concern. She looked like she had just realized some critical mistake. "Are you serious?" her voice was small as her brow wrinkled. "You were ill today?"

Snape slowly and reluctantly nodded. "Yes, I was," he said, not even trying to deny anything anymore.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Last I checked, I was not required to inform my students when I'm not feeling well."

"It would have been nice to have a warning," Rose suggested.

"Even so, you still would have been late, and you still would not have noticed."

"You didn't give me a chance to notice."

"Perhaps I like to keep the lot of you out of my business."

Rose shook her head, her gaze falling to her shifting feet. "But that's not very fair, to any of us or to you."

"My heart bleeds," Snape rolled his eyes.

"Sick to your stomach; it had to have been pretty awful for your temper to hang by a thread like that. Did you have anything else?"

"I've been persistently nauseous, I've been lightheaded, and now thanks to you, I have a splitting headache."

"No wonder you were in such a rotten mood. Have you seen Madam Pomfrey?"

"If you must know, no I haven't. I believe this to be a mild bug, and that it will pass in time."

"Well, have you at least –,"

"Miss Beckett," Snape stopped her, holding up his hand. "Your concerns touch me, but I don't need to be lectured by you. I will say this only once; shut up and stay out of my business."

Rose sighed before disappearing into the office. She fell to her knees to tidy up the last two piles of debris; stalling really. A great number of things were buzzing around in her head. But as hard as she tried to forget it, Snape's sudden revelation had embedded itself in her brain. She began to piece together the day's happenings. Sure, Snape had been in a far fouler mood lately. But not once did she consider that it had something to do with his health. Why didn't she think of that? Though her loathing for the man was still burning in her gut, guilt was building up in her chest. No more than an hour ago, she had snickered at his stress headache as revenge. But the image of the frail man hunched over a toilet bowl, retching and miserable was one that Rose found disturbing. It was almost sad really. Was this what Dumbledore had popped in to discuss? Some voice inside her head was telling her not to, but Rose felt a bit sorry for him. Maybe it was just in the Gryffindor's nature to find sympathy in people's ills, no matter who they were. But still, he was the reason she was on the floor sweeping. Stomach bug or not, she should still have good reason to be angry. But why was she having such a hard time finding it?

She quickly finished sweeping and disposed of the last shards of glass. Her pace quickened as she walked back into the classroom to retrieve her things. Snape hadn't moved from his place at the front of the room."Your office is done," she told him. "I did as best I could. You can have people in there tomorrow and none will be the wiser."

"Very well, Miss Beckett," said Snape as he retrieved Rose's wand from its drawer prison and handed it back to her. "Report back here tomorrow night at seven thirty. I also expect you to be among the first to arrive to class, if you know what is good for you. You're dismissed."

The tired student turned on her heels, wand and excess clothing in hand. But just before she could reach the door, she stopped. Her mind was racing with conscience; a battle of morals was raging. Some unseen devil and angel were going at each other like mad dogs in heat.

The angel came out victorious.

"Professor Snape?" she said, grabbing the Potions master's attention as he approached his closed office door.

"Yes?" he turned to her lethargically.

Rose swallowed hard. "About today, and the things that I said. I just wanted to say that…that…that I'm sorry. If I had known that you weren't feeling well in class, I don't think I would have reacted in that way." She waited for a reply from Snape, but only got a blank stare. He appeared to be unmoved by her words. Now feeling hurt, she made one last attempt.

"If you have a heart, sir, I hope you can find it somewhere in it to accept my apology." She turned back to the door. "You don't have to forgive me. You don't even have to believe me. But it would lift a weight off my shoulders if I knew that you weren't going to hold this against me. Please, don't torture me by making me feel worse than I already do. Good night, sir." Rose's form was consumed by darkness as the door closed behind her.

Severus crept across his spotless office floor to his desk. He fell back into his chair with a deep sigh. He scratched his head, thinking of what had just happened. Very puzzled, he reached into a low drawer and grabbed hold of a dark bottle. It was just for nights like this that he kept his secret stash of sherry. He popped off the cork, hoping that intoxication would relieve him of this befuddlement.

Had he heard right? Did the girl just apologize to him? This was so odd. Students never apologized to him, not unless it would save them from more trouble. And even when they did, they didn't speak to him with a tone that mimicked that of someone speaking before the Ministry of Magic. How very un-Gryffindor-like, Severus thought. But it wasn't the action as much as the motivation that bothered him. Was that out of genuine regret, or did his little slip of the tongue get to her? Words could not describe the wizard's confusion. He took a long swig of the deep amber liquor.

He couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or his sheer exhaustion, but strangely, there was something about Rose's apology that was getting to him. Her honesty was one thing. Severus had been lied to many times in his life, and yet he felt that this was not one of those times. With the timid quality in her voice, Severus didn't need to invade her mind to be sure of that. Make no mistake; he had seen right through her polite demeanor when she first arrived, revealing the true ego behind it (thank you Legilimency!) But was it possible that she gave that up when she was left alone to think? And as much as it repulsed Severus to do so, he had to admit a very small, grudging respect for Rose. She had the courage to do what far too few Gryffindors before her had done. She had stood up to him, taken responsibility for her wrongs, and accepted defeat with little fight. Now, if only her little friends would have enough sense to do the same from time to time.

Severus took one last swig of his drink as he took hold of his quill. Though his reasoning was masked by booze and confusion, Severus had been moved by the young woman's words. He stared at the parchment before him. Action had to be taken on his part; he owed that much to Rose. There was no way he was going to lift her detentions; she wasn't going to get off that easily. But she did deserve something. Severus thought for a while. Then slowly, as though not wanting to accept his own actions, he wrote it down.

_One hundred points to Gryffindor_

There, it was done. He couldn't possibly bring himself to return all three hundred of those lost points; not a snowflake's chance in Hell! But this at least would bring Gryffindor up out of the negative range and back up to zero. And much to the greasy haired wizard's satisfaction, they were still trailing behind the other houses. But still, he had done enough for them. Come the morning, the students would be stunned and amazed. The teachers would be flabbergasted. And poor Rose Beckett would be hounded with questions. She and everyone else would only be left to wonder. The only other person who would see this little note would be Minerva. Other than that, Severus would not admit to anything for anything.

Stuffing the folded note into his robe pocket, Severus tucked his bottle of sherry back in its hiding place. Then he got up to leave before he could change his mind. His head was heavy and his tired eyes were screaming for sleep. Turning the Beckett girl into a Muggle maid was nice, but right now, only one thing mattered.

Bed…sleep…now!

**~HP~**

_**It only gets more complicated from there.**_

_**Thank you to those who left reviews, and I look forward to reading your feedback.**_


	8. The importance of keeping your dignity

**__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Rose rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes as she carefully descended the steps, heading for the Great hall. She shook her hair out of her face, lacing her fingers together and cracking her knuckles. She softly chuckled at the sharp noise. Though a little groggy, she felt worlds better after eight hours of uninterrupted slumber. Hopefully, today would also be better, if the dewy sunlight was anything to go by. She took in a deep breath at that pleasant idea.

Beside her, Harry attempted to not drag his feet. The Head Boy had overslept slightly after a long night of procrastinated reading, and had been relieved to stumble across Rose in the common room. He praised some higher power that he wasn't the last one in the tower.

"I tell you, Rose," he yawned. "That's the last time I leave Herbology reading until the night before."

"You know, you've said that," said Rose. "And you never learn."

"What if I said that I was serious this time?"

"Harry, you're a nice guy, but you can be a piece of work sometimes."

"You should stop hanging around Hermione, Rose. You're starting to sound like her."

"You see? That's what I mean. Maybe you should lay off Weasley for a while."

"Do you know how wrong that just sounded?"

Rose thought for a moment, but her face suddenly went blank as their feet touched the stone floor that led to the Great Hall. Harry struggled to contain his laughter as he stared at her terrifically funny expression. Rose also started to laugh at herself, closed eyes falling to the floor.

"Harry, do me a favor and forget I said that," she said.

"No problem," Harry yawned again. The brief moment of lethargic relapse caused Rose to also yawn widely, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. They continued around the corner to where breakfast waited for them.

Both were jogged out of their walking twilight when they were met by a small crowd of their young housemates. Voices were raised until they steadily became white noise, sounding everything from excited to plain confused.

"How did it happen?"

"What did you do?"

"What did you do to Snape?"

"Hey, hey, cool it!" Harry shouted above the kids, drawing the attention of other students around them. "What are you all talking about?"

"Look at our points!" a little blonde Second year pointed up to the front of the hall. Both Harry and Rose followed his hand, and both let their jaws hit the floor at what they saw. The extra jar of rubies that represented one hundred nonexistent points had vanished and their glass had leveled out. They were out of the negative range again. They pushed through the crowd of children and rushed over to where Ron and Hermione sat with their contemporaries.

"When did that happen?" Harry asked as he not-so-subtly pointed to the hourglass.

"My guess would be last night or early today," said Hermione, buttering a slice of toast.

"Mione, it's only eight thirty," said Ron. "It had to be last night."

"Hold on, last night? But that would mean…" Harry's finger shifted to Rose, whose eyes had gone wide with realization. "Oh no!" she gasped, shaking her head. "It can't be!"

"Rose, that has to be around a hundred points," Parvati pointed out as the two late-comers sat down. "What happened when you were in detention?"

"Yeah Beckett, what did you do to level us out?" asked Dean.

"You ask me like I know," Rose helped herself to a bowl of cereal. "And even if I did, what makes you think it was me?"

"Don't you think it's strange that we get a hundred points back less than a day after you lose three hundred and get detention?" said Neville, who was pushing the last of his eggs around his plate. "Anyone would suspect that you had something to do with it."

Rose sighed. "Anyone but me. Nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. I went there, Snape gave me orders, I spent hours cleaning up someone else's mistake, and then I left. It's just a coincidence." She was careful to leave out certain details, unsure of what would happen if it got back to Snape. Rose quickly glanced over her shoulder to pick him out at the head table, but was slightly disturbed when she noticed that the Potions master was missing from among the other teachers.

"It must have been a hell of a mistake," said Ron, retrieving Rose's attention. "Hermione said you didn't get in until almost eleven."

"Oh, it was terrible!" Rose shook her head. "Abysmal failure! I feel bad for whoever's potion that was. But I'll have you know that when we get down there, none of you will be able to tell where it was."

"Snape make you do it by hand?" asked Harry, ripping off a bite of toast.

"Has he ever let anyone do it with magic?" Rose asked back with a slightly cocked brow. "All the more reason to be proud of a job well done."

"How did Snape treat you?" Neville spoke up again. "Did he try to ridicule you the whole time?"

"No Neville, he and I had a lively chat about the Royal family over tea and biscuits. Of course, he did! But he mostly tried to ignore me, like I was just a thorn in his side or something."

Lavender looked nothing but confused. "Nothing happened?"

"Yes Lav, I believe I already made that point." Rose tucked into her cereal before continuing. "What were you expecting, Snape using me for target practice?"

"Well, it would have made more sense," said Seamus.

"Please, just being in the same room was torture enough for both of us." Rose rolled her eyes.

"And to think that you still have got what, sixteen nights left?"

"Thank you for being so kind as to remind Rose of that, Seamus," Hermione quietly scolded.

"Hey, I'll leave it alone when you get us back the other two hundred points."

Rose growled as she set down her spoon and rested her chin on her hands. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in over the table. "Honestly Seamus, she would have to give Snape a blow job or something to make that happen."

The other Seventh years suddenly fell silent, taking in that last comment. Ron's face turned a pale green and he pushed his plate away. "Well…that ruined my appetite."

**~HP~**

Hermione and Rose opted to stay behind when the others decided to get a head start on the walk to Herbology. Rose was still quite hungry after the day before, and had decided to chase her cereal with three pieces of toast smothered in strawberry jam. Hermione took advantage of this, using it as an excuse to look over her finished homework for a second time. When the two girls eventually started for the greenhouses, Rose was still nibbling on pink-stained crust, giving her the appearance of a starving squirrel.

They weren't in the halls for three minutes when Hermione spoke up. "So tell me Rose, what happened last night? I mean, what _really _happened?"

"Ah, you can see right through me now, can you?" Rose sighed.

"Well Rose, even you have to admit that the timing of those points was very odd. And as much as I want to believe you, something just isn't adding up."

Rose smirked. "You're good. I'm surprised Harry didn't demand you do that thirty minutes ago."

"Very funny, but notice how you avoid my question. Nothing at all happened in detention?"

"Nothing that anyone needs to know about." The red-haired witch poker-faced the brunette one.

"Oh-ho!" Hermione suddenly perked up. "Which means that there's something that I need to know about."

Now Rose was laughing. "There's no need to get excited, Mione."

"Just tell me," Hermione demanded.

"Not now,"

"Please,"

"Cut it out,"

"Don't make me deduct points, you stubborn witch."

Rose almost skidded to a halt and turned around to where Hermione had stopped a second before. "Quick to turn on your friends, are you Head Girl?"

"Come on Rose, just tell me and get it over with," Hermione tried to reason with her friend.

Rose wrinkled her eyebrows as her blue eyes shifted back and forth around the hall. To Hermione, she looked uneasy and a bit careful. "Do you promise to keep this quiet?"

"Of course, whatever you say."

Rose was looking around again for people when her searching eye found the door to the girl's loo. Smiling, she motioned for Hermione to follow her inside. Once the door lock clicked behind them, both girls set their books down on the sinks. Rose turned back to Hermione, who was leaning against the wall with an anxious expression. A quick look at six unlocked cubicle doors reassured her of their privacy.

"I apologized to Snape last night."

"You did what?" Hermione raised her brow in surprise.

"I apologized to –,"

"I heard that part," the Head Girl was shaking her hands at her friend. "But what? You apologized to Snape, _really _apologized?"

"Yeah," said Rose.

"Why?"

"Well, with all that time to think last night, it just occurred to me that it was the right thing to do. So I said I was sorry for how I acted in class."

"Well, I'll be…" Hermione smiled. "That's amazing! After all that, you came to your senses."

Rose laughed softly. "I know, crikey right?"

"What convinced you?" asked Hermione, quite curious.

"Someone had to be the good guy, right?" Again, Rose felt it was necessary to keep the whole truth to herself. But Hermione didn't buy that for a minute. "Rose, I know you too well. Why would you say you're sorry to a man who spent the night bullying you?"

"Well…" Rose searched her mind for the safest explanation. "Something made me change my mind."

"Like what?"

"Let's just say that I got the idea that Snape's day wasn't much better than mine was." Rose said this with a shake of her head. Her eyes slowly wandered up to the high ceiling. Hermione cocked her head to the side, a bit bemused. Rose seemed to understand her silent question as she said, "It was something he said."

"What was that?" asked Hermione.

Rose quickly walked over to the cubicles, knocking open the doors and peering in as she passed by. Sure that they were totally alone, she walked back over to the sinks and hoisted herself up to sit on one of the brims. "Listen Hermione, this has got to stay between you and me, okay?" she urged her friend.

Hermione was unsure as to why Rose was going to great lengths to keep this all secret, but she still tried to accept that she had some reason behind it. She nodded with a reassuring smile. Rose composed herself with a quick breath. "Snape told me that he wasn't feeling his best yesterday."

She almost missed the look of utter surprise in Hermione's eyes, brown eyebrows lifting and her delicate lips parting. The red-haired witch went on further. "You should have seen him, Mione. He looked positively awful while I was there. I mean, he never looked too good to begin with, but last night was something else."

"What was wrong with him?"

"I think he's got some kind of stomach virus. He hinted that he'd been feeling nauseous, and I would be lying to you if I didn't once think he was going to be sick at any moment."

Hermione shook her head, forcing an exhale. "So that explains why he's been so overbearing lately. Why didn't we think of that?"

"To be honest, I thought the same thing," said Rose. "But he's been that way since we first got back. I doubt he's been ill for that long."

"But what if he has?" Hermione was quick to throw out every possibility she could think of.

"I don't know, Mione," Rose shrugged. "And even if he has been sick for a while, I don't see why that should matter to us except to cause us to dread Potions."

"It obviously mattered to you. After all, you _did _apologize to him. You did that because you felt sorry for him, didn't you?"

Rose, quite shocked by her friend's audacity, slid off the sink she sat on and settled on her feet. She didn't really want to admit to Hermione that the latter was right, though the reason why escaped her. She thought for a quick moment. "Be serious," she started.

"I am," Hermione interrupted. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Rose tried to come up with some sort of excuse, but she only realized that this was Hermione Granger she was speaking to. The brilliant girl would figure out the truth sooner or later. Rose also realized that if she had to spill her guts to someone, it would be to Hermione. She was a good friend, and good friends always allowed themselves to be talked into the floor by others.

"Yes, alright, I felt bad for him," she finally admitted. "You would too if you had heard him last night."

Hermione's eyes then thinned out, a tweak tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I have to ask, Rose. Did you say you were sorry because you felt a bit guilty after finding that out?"

Rose unconsciously rolled her eyes before pointing a pale finger at Hermione. "Don't you dare let that slip to anyone. I don't want people knowing that I apologized in the first place, let alone because I felt a tiny bit guilty."

"I thought that was very admirable of you," said Hermione, trying to be of some help.

"You do, but I don't think many others will," Rose's voice sounded like she had been discouraged by such thoughts. "If anything, people will think I'm too soft. We're Gryffindors, and he's Head of Slytherin House. That's just embarrassing."

"You've been hanging around Seamus and Dean too much," Hermione laughed. "You did the right thing and you know it."

Rose laughed along with her, but not without a little effort. She knew that Hermione was trying to make her feel good, but the mention of her housemates seemed to cast a little cloud over her mood. If Rose assumed that she would be able to tell this story to any other Gryffindor and get away with it, then she really didn't know her house. Yes, she did the right thing, but others would not see it that way, her year-mates in particular.

Rose had always had her difficulties when faced with low opinions of her, no matter whose they were. It was often quite enough to have Parkinson causing her trouble for no reason, save the Slytherin's own boredom. But the last two days had been hell in a hand basket. Having those closest to her think such things of her was eating away at Rose's mind. She realized that most of them probably didn't know what they were doing; something that Hermione would be quick to remind her of. But that didn't stop the unsettling insecurity from creeping into Rose's usually confident spirit. Hermione was one of the very few people to ever get a glimpse of this private vulnerability, and now she was the only one left in the student body. But for Rose, it was better to only have one person see that side of her. She, like many before her, believed it was a weakness to expose yourself in such a way.

Hermione would have continued in her verbal applaud if she hadn't looked down at her watch to see that they were running out of time to race to Herbology. Instead, she showed her appreciation with a light hug before they grabbed their things and left the lavatory. She also reiterated that their conversation would stay between her and Rose; Ron would not hear it unless it was coming from Rose's mouth. Though her mind was cluttered with unneeded concerns, Rose thanked the high heavens that she still had one good friend to lean on these days.

**~HP~**

Severus wiped the sweat from his forehead. He could already feel the gunk building up on his scalp as he stood over a boiling cauldron. Poppy Pomfrey had requested a few crates of Pepper-up and Anti-flu Potions, and that had kept Severus busy for most of the evening. He had just started the second batches for both. Thank Merlin that he was in better health for the time being. He still dealt with a bout of nausea that had kept him in his quarters until the start of classes, but that was the worst of it. In fact, he felt perfectly fine by the time the befuddled Seventh years shuffled into class that afternoon. Severus took great delight in such confusion, though he was a bit disappointed that he had missed their initial reactions at breakfast. Listening to Minerva recall what she saw over quiet tea just didn't do any justice.

The Potions master was working in his classroom; with two potions brewing, the heat would have been unbearable in his office. When had he become so sensitive to high heat? It would have been easier to work there anyway. Beckett was due to arrive for detention at any moment, and Severus was expecting that she would follow through with her attempts to get back on his good side. It was nearly impossible for a Gryffindor to do that, and though she knew this, it didn't stop her from trying. She had arrived on time for class, apparently just as confused as her classmates. Snape was pleased with himself at the idea, but he did find it odd that the girl had trouble looking at him. No doubt that she and the Dream Team had a little chat. Severus rolled his eyes; like being stuck with her for several days would be made any easier with those simpletons planting ideas in her head.

As the clock struck at half past seven, Rose rushed in as though she thought she was late. Panting lightly, she nodded her head to Snape, who had looked up from stirring one of his cauldrons. "Good evening, sir," she said, trying to be polite.

"I thank you for your promptness, Miss Beckett," said Snape. He pointed to an opposite corner where nearly twenty filthy cauldrons were stacked up. "I took the liberty of informing the First years that they would be having their cauldrons scrubbed out for them."

He noticed as Rose sighed with defeat. "As you wish," she nodded. She pulled out her wand and handed it over to Snape. In return, she got a small, hard shoe brush. She tried to suppress a smile as her eyebrow twitched.

"What are you smirking at?" sneered Snape, his coal black eyes narrowing.

"I thought that you would make me use something like a toothbrush."

Snape rolled his eyes; that had actually crossed his mind at some point. "Miss Beckett, I don't have the time for something like that."

"Oh?"

"If you used a toothbrush, it would take you five days. What's the use in wasting such time on one task?"

Rose's pale forehead wrinkled. "I bet I could do it in three days." The glare she received from Snape made Rose realize that she was challenging him. She quickly stopped talking and carried the first cauldron over to the sink. There was no way she was going to let her mouth get her in trouble again.

It was awkward, very awkward. Though the room was not totally silent, the absence of speech did a number on the comfort levels of both student and teacher. They tried to stay completely focused on their respective tasks, but the unsaid tension hung over their heads. Both thought that it might have been better if they were still beside themselves with anger. It was Rose who broke the silence.

"What are you doing there?"

Snape glared at her. Did she have to go from ignoring him one night to trying to make conversation the next? "What does it look like I'm doing? Madam Pomfrey needed some potions made."

Rose sniffed the air. "Is that Pepper-up?"

"You should know. It was part of today's lesson." The Potions master let his tired glare fall back down to his work.

Rose stepped away from the cauldron in the sink, absentmindedly letting it fill with water. She tried to peer over into the bubbling brew. "Aren't we supposed to brew that tomorrow?"

"You know well that I will not tell you that," said Snape. "And even if you were brewing this, by watching me, you could be accused of cheating."

The girl's eyes thinned out, clearly not amused by such an idea. _'Oh yeah, as if I don't have enough detention as it is.'_

Snape motioned to the sink and the overflowing cauldron. "Get back to work, Beckett, and leave me to my own." The young witch suppressed a growl as she dunked her hand in the water in search of the brush.

Five clean cauldrons lay to the side when Rose realized that sweat was trickling down the sides of her face. She thought the room was toasty when she first got there, but now it was sweltering. Was it necessary to have two intense burners going at the same time? She looked up at Snape; perspiration was pouring off of his temples as he carefully bottled the Pepper-up. He looked like his concentration would cause him to pass out.

"Professor, are you almost finished?" asked Rose, stripping off her robe. "No means to be rude, but it's really hot in here."

Snape didn't so much as glance at her. "If it bothers you so much, then why don't you dunk that pretty little face of yours into the water?"

"I can handle it," Rose shook her head. "I just wanted to know how much longer I'll be sweating off weight."

"Keep your knickers on, Miss Beckett…please," Snape urged sarcastically. "You've tolerated worse in my classes, you can shut up for a few hours." Rose turned back to her chore, but not before throwing a quick little sneer at her professor. Snape snarled under his breath.

Half an hour passed by with more than a little notice. Having packed away the doses of Pepper-up, Severus had to wait impatiently for the second brew to mature. Slaving over a hot cauldron for the best part of four hours had killed his energy, and the unrelenting heat certainly didn't help. He was debating if he should turn in for the night once he'd finished when he looked down to see that he was missing the last ingredient. He growled to himself; of course he had to forget something in the storeroom. He was about to make a move to fetch it when he had a thought.

"Miss Beckett," He got Rose's attention as she was vigorously scrubbing her tenth cauldron. "Go into my storeroom and find the bottle of crushed violent petals. Bring it to me."

"Yes Professor," Rose nodded. She dropped her brush in the sink and calmly walked over to Snape's office, disappearing behind the door.

Severus eased down into his hard, wooden chair and leaned his elbows on the table as he cradled his head. It was so odd; he never used to be so tired in the evenings. In past years, he could work until the early hours of the morning with no trouble. Now, he struggled to make it to eleven o'clock. And for Severus, demanding that a student go and fetch something for him was just ridiculous. Really, he thought, his mysterious stomach upsets were bad enough. Did it have to get much worse?

A few minutes passed before Rose reentered the room, a little blue bottle in her hand. She placed it on the table in front of Snape. "There you are, sir," she said. "If I can make a suggestion, perhaps you should put new labels on those jars. Some of them were pretty hard to make out."

The Potions master didn't say a word; he just uncorked the bottle and tapped in a pinch of the dark dried plant particles. The potion slowly turned a dark, royal blue color. Rose went back to the sink. Snape thought for a moment, eyeing the Gryffindor. All he had to do was bottle up the Anti-flu Potion and he was through for the night. He would make a Sixth year carry them up to the hospital wing in the morning. But in the mean time, he had to consider his options. He would much rather be tucked up in his quarters than watch the Beckett girl wash dishes. And judging from the strength of her scrubbing, Rose wanted to get out of there just as quickly. Severus lowered the heat under the potion; while he had Rose at his beck and call, why not take advantage of it?

"Beckett,"

Rose's eyes cautiously shifted to Snape. "Yes?"

"Come here." The greasy, dark haired wizard motioned for her to come closer. Nervously, Rose set aside her tenth clean cauldron and walked over to him. Snape stared at her tensing face. "There is enough Anti-flu Potion here for thirty-five doses, and they all need to be bottled. Frankly, I don't have much desire to be trapped here with you for much longer. Can I trust you to assist me so that we both can be out of here sooner?"

"Yes Professor, anything you say," said Rose, missing the insult in the request. "What do you want me to do with the rest of the cauldrons?"

"Leave them. You can finish them tomorrow night."

"Oh…" Rose sounded surprised. "Thanks, I guess." Snape then silently summoned two clean ladles and handed one to the unusually awkward student.

The two of them worked together at a slow pace; Anti-flu Potion was a fair bit thicker than a pure liquid. Sweat continued to drip off their foreheads as they filled, corked and stored the tiny bottles. As he worked, Severus noticed that every time he would even glance at Rose, her eyes would snap away. She was also a bit shifty in her posture as she stood in front of his desk. She was acting just as, if not more suspicious than she did in class. Severus didn't need to ponder this for too long; watching her gave it away. Something was going on in her head.

"Is there something you wish to say, Miss Beckett?"

In her mind, Rose was cursing the world because she couldn't be more discreet. But she couldn't exactly lie to Snape because he would automatically see it for what it was. The red-haired witch held her breath; it was now or never. "Um, yes…can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?" Snape was more than a little curious.

"Was it you who gave Gryffindor all those points?"

Ah, that was it. Severus Snape was not a stupid man; he knew that after that kind of shock, this was bound to come up. It all just depended on if Rose had the guts to think of asking. His face held no emotion as he blinked slowly. "Part of it, yes." He lied, not wanting to give the Gryffindor the satisfaction of the full truth.

Rose eyes widened to absurd levels of surprise. "Really? Why did you do it?"

Snape suppressed the urge to laugh at the look on the student's face. "Now Miss Beckett, I'm sure that you have already figured that out, that is if someone else didn't do it for you."

"We've had our suspicions," Rose sighed with frustration. "But I for one would like to have a clue about what really happened."

Snape also sighed, though he couldn't quite tell if it was out of exhaustion or his disdain for Rose's persistence. He rolled his eyes as he turned his gaze back to the simmering blue liquid. "If you are so desperate to know, then here you have it. It was because of your little apology last night."

"Was it really?" said Rose, her mouth curling into a smile. "Professor Snape, I'm touched. So you forgave me after all?"

"I never said that," The pale, sickly man watched that smile disappear as fast as it came. "I merely thought it appropriate to give you the prize you were no doubt seeking when you got up the bollocks to do that. Lord knows that none of those blundering brats you call friends would have thought of such a thing."

Rose's lips thinned out; she wasn't mad at this pointless insult to her friends, but for the total misconception of herself at the end of last night's session. It was fairly obvious to her that Snape saw nothing in her than the glory whore she apparently was supposed to be. She now wondered why she even bothered to be so civil to him in the face of his weaknesses.

"That's not true. Harry and Hermione would have done the same thing if they had been in my place."

"Or so you think," Snape set aside the bottle he had just finished filling. "I don't believe that Potter would have been so saintly in light of last night's situation. You ought to know by now that the lot of you would never admit defeat in some lengthy Hufflepuff-like explanation."

"Again sir, that is not true." Irritation began to creep into Rose's voice. "Just because you hardly ever see it, that doesn't mean that it never happens. I admit that I was wrong, does that mean nothing? If you ask me, you should feel lucky that I even felt sorry for you last night."

"So says the proud Gryffindor," Snape sneered viciously. "You seem to think it's a good thing to wear your heart on your sleeve. And yet it is exactly that that has us standing here tonight. Hmm…since you don't seem to be in the mood to deny, surely you will admit that you did give your ego a little boost last night. I wasn't there this morning, but I'll bet you loved that attention, retelling your story to anyone who would listen."

Just then, there was a sudden loud yelp. Rose, distracted from her task, had let her angry eyes wander away from her ladle and unceremoniously poured a generous amount of hot potion over her fingers. She dropped both ladle and bottle as she rushed over to the sink. The bottle shattered on the floor in front of the desk. Snape shook his head as Rose ran her hand under cold water.

Rose breathed hard against the pain, trying her best to stay composed. After a few moments, she shut the water off and flexed her fingers. The burns were still quite painful, but not unbearably so. She hissed away the stinging; good thing she had bandages in the dormitory. She turned back to the snide professor as if nothing had happened.

"I'll have you know that I didn't tell anyone that I did that."

A black eyebrow arched as Snape stared at Rose. He certainly hadn't expected that, much less from her. "Really? No one?" He dared her to swear to this supposed truth.

"No one," Rose reaffirmed. Snape did not believe her; she most likely blabbed to at least one of her friends. Granger had also been oddly quiet in class, which really sparked the wizard's curiosity. But still, the confusion of the other Seventh years suggested that they really didn't know what Rose had done. Something wasn't adding up in Severus's mind.

"You cannot expect me to believe that you did not tell one single person. I've heard talk that you were so kind to retell your side of yesterday's story."

Rose reached for a bottle, avoiding looking Snape in his obsidian eyes. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not overly fond of that kind of attention."

"Say that to my face," Snape demanded, boring into the witch's pale face. Rose did not falter; she merely blinked as she snapped her head in his direction. "Being the center of attention is not my favorite pastime, and I usually don't go looking for it. And even if I do, it certainly isn't for arrogance."

"You don't say," said Snape. "I don't think I've met a bigger hypocrite than you at the moment."

Rose carefully grasped her ladle, wincing as the metal touched red skin. "As I was not in my right mind yesterday, I would not count that as intentional."

"That, Miss Beckett, is horse shit."

Rose couldn't stop herself from flinching at the professor's sudden swear. But shock was quickly forgotten as fury shot up her throat, her eyes burning. Snape continued. "Sooner or later, you are going to have to put an end to this pointless denial, if I can even still call it that. You knew exactly what you were doing all of yesterday, and no headache or amount of frustration can justify that."

The Gryffindor would have broken another bottle if she hadn't caught herself. Instead, she gently set down the delicate glass, colored by the brew. But then Rose took a step back. "So now you're calling me a liar," she said in a low voice.

"I don't believe that I said that," Snape had gone back to his share of the work. "Although I have to say it would be incredibly stupid to believe every word that comes from a child's mouth."

"Alright then, if you want proof, then why don't you come and get it?" Rose hopped up to sit on the nearest student desk. "Harry tells me that you can read minds."

The weary Potions master was taken aback, nearly dropping one of his own bottles. My, this girl certainly had gotten sassy as of late! But what the hell did he have to do to put an end to it? He silently contemplated a word with Minerva when opportunity presented itself. "Nice to know that Potter is still trying to get you ahead in your defense training," he said, Potter's name oozing with venom.

"Don't turn this on Harry," warned Rose. "I'm serious, sir. If you are a Legilimens, then why not use it on me right here, right now?"

The truth was that Legilimency took too much effort, effort that Severus really did not have. And yet again, he felt that he didn't have to invade Rose's thoughts; her face said it all. "It's simple," he said. "It's because you are weak. Not much better than your dear friend Potter when I think about it. It would be too easy, just a waste of time and magic."

Rose opened her mouth to fire back, but the words were caught in her throat. She didn't know the depth of magical skill involved in Legilimency and Occlumency. Whatever scrappy knowledge she had came from _Prophet_ pages and the aforementioned wizard hero. If she knew anything, it was that so few had these abilities, and among these few were some of the greatest wizards to ever live. For Snape to say that Legilimency would be too easy on her, it was as though he was commenting directly on her abilities. To Rose, it felt like he was calling her a bad witch, mediocre at best. Rose felt her fiery anger quenched by cold hurt.

She slid off the desk. "Alright Professor, you win," she said as she grasped her ladle. "But I'm not weak." Snape simply rolled his eyes at her.

The awkward silence of before soon returned, but neither the witch nor the wizard made any effort to change that. Rose didn't want to take any chances in pouring faster; one blistered hand was enough. Yet she still wished that she had not said such stupid things to make being with Snape any more unsettling. The Potions master, looking very tired and very hot, seemed to have taken to disregarding her careful help. She didn't really expect for him to say anymore that evening. She gathered several sealed bottles in her hands and walked them over to the box that held the rest of the stock.

"If I might ask," Rose almost jumped at Snape's low voice. "Just why didn't you tell the whole school that you apologized to me?"

Rose was unsure of how to answer. On one hand, she wanted to protect her humility, but even she had to admit that it was only a half-truth. There were some things that even Hermione couldn't hear. She took a short breath. "If I'm honest, it was because of you," she said, and the words unsaid slowly found their way to the surface. "It would have been impossible to tell people without also telling them why I did it in the first place. After yesterday, I thought that you could do without the unneeded attention."

Severus did not cease to be surprised. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief that this young woman had remained considerate. "Really? And you got nothing out of it?"

"Well, I did save myself a ribbing from my housemates. But really Professor, it was mostly for you."

Snape was suspicious. "Why do I have the feeling that this was not totally out of your own understanding?"

The girl offered a weak smile, shrugging. "I thought that being stuck with you would be easier if you weren't angry with me again."

"You thought I would be angry?"

"Are you serious? Of course, I did. I mean, see how nasty you are when I'm trying to have a civilized discussion."

"That is merely because I find your sass and your sheer presence to be most irritating," said Snape. Rose rolled her eyes. "In any case, it seemed to me that you didn't want anyone else knowing that you were ill yesterday, and it seemed to me that I could spare myself another week's detention if I kept my mouth shut."

The two of them silently packed the filled bottles into the wooden box bound for the hospital wing. Rose dabbed the sweat from her face, letting lazy eyes fall onto Snape. The wizard seemed to grasp his desk and perspiration had given his face and hair a sickly shine. _'The man looks right ready to faint,' _Rose thought. She was still looking at him when he let out a deep sigh and met her gaze.

"Is it safe to assume that you will stay quiet about tonight as well?"

Rose nodded. "Yes sir, you have my word."

"Good because I have something to say to you." Rose was confused, wrinkling her fair eyebrows. Snape was uneasy as he glanced around the room, as though the Bloody Baron had a habit of floating through at this hour. Then he said, "I appreciate that you thought of more than just yourself. You were right to believe that I did not want attention drawn to myself. Given the circumstances, it was noble of you to respect my privacy."

The eighteen year-old student was totally unsure of what to say at first, but after a moment of serious pondering, her lips tugged into a little smile. "You know Professor, I won't think any less of you if you just say thank you." The sneer that she received told her that this was wishful thinking.

Snape waved his wand and the empty, filthy cauldron floated over to the sink. "You can scrub that out, and then you can go," he said, attempting to wipe the layer of sweat from his face. He eased down into his chair.

Before Rose went to recover the wet shoe brush, she looked again at her teacher's sickly face and hollow eyes. Not stopping to think, she asked "Professor Snape, would you mind if I used my wand for a second?"

"Not until that cauldron is clean."

"Then would you do me a favor and summon a glass?"

"You have some nerve, Beckett." Snape rolled his black eyes and snapped his wand through the air. A goblet flew out of his office and over to his waiting hand. He held it out to Rose, who had already walked over to retrieve it. She then briskly went to fill it with water. Severus sighed; after sweating in that uniform, of course she would be thirsty. That reminded him of how slow and lightheaded he was feeling at the moment. In his head, he was commanding the Gryffindor to just drink her water and hurry up already. He rested his head in his hand, but then he heard a 'clink'. Severus looked up to see the goblet of cool water in front of him. Rose was already gliding back to the corner, adjusting the ribbon that held her ginger ponytail.

"Drink that. You look like you need it more than I do."

**~HP~**

_**Keep on reading, and keep on reviewing! Thank you!**_


	9. What was missing

**_Hey readers, short chapter this time. However it is necessary chapter because we will learn a bit more about Rose. I hope you find it interesting so that I feel better about a slow story._**

**__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

"So he took me out to the gardens and sat me down by the bushes of pink roses. You know the ones I've always liked?" Lavender was quite close to floating off the ground as she made her way through the castle's sunlit halls. She was hell-bent on enjoying the glorious weather for a little while before they had to return to class. Behind her, Parvati was riding her robe hem and listening to every excited word. Next to her walked Rose, who was balancing a small stack of books in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other.

Lavender's stunningly white smile threatened to blind unsuspecting children as they passed by. The blonde Gryffindor barely stopped for breath as she spoke more to thin air than to her two following friends. "You should have heard him. Justin sounded so nervous, but still so sweet when he said that there was a reason he wanted us to be alone. He told me that he never had so much in common with a girl before, and it didn't hurt that I wasn't bad looking. Then he said that he had never been happier than before we were hanging out, and he wants me to be a bigger part of his life. And then…he kissed me!"

Lavender let out a high squeal in spite of herself, prompting giggles from both Rose and Parvati. This was the first time Parvati had heard the full story behind her best friend's newfound romantic status with Justin Finch-Fletchley, and was more than a little eager to hear the details. Rose however had managed to overhear Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan gossiping in the corridors on her way to Transfiguration. She had also seized the opportunity to gloat to her housemates when the news spread to them. After all, she told them that this would happen eventually. She fondly remembered the looks of utter relief in the faces of both Ron and Hermione.

"It was too good to be true!" Lavender continued. "I know I said that about Ron, but this was different. The feeling I had was just indescribable."

"Oh Lav, I'm so happy for you," said Parvati as the three girls were immersed in warm sunlight. They walked across the courtyard with no real destination. Rose crunched down on her apple, using her cuff to wipe away the juices running down her chin.

"Indescribable? Not bad for someone you've only been seriously pursuing for two months."

"Don't you talk like that, Rose," said Lavender, playfully swatting at her. "I really can't describe it, it was so perfect."

Rose shook her head, though not without a smile. "I believe you, but I'm sorry if I have my doubts."

"You only say that because you've never felt that for yourself," said Parvati.

"What are you saying?" asked Rose with a flaxen arch in her brow.

"She's saying that it's because you've never had a boyfriend."

Rose gasped at Lavender's comment, but what that did was make her catch a piece of apple in her throat. She coughed hard against it, struggling to catch her breath. Only when she dropped her books to grasp her neck did Parvati swiftly reach for her wand. "_Anapneo!_" In a flash, the chunk flew out of Rose's mouth. She took deep, rasping breaths as the color came back into her lips.

"You tried to kill me!" She pointed a thin finger at Lavender, who bent over to pick up her books.

"I'm sorry about that, Rose. I didn't mean to make you choke." Lavender sounded nothing but sincere.

"All I'll say is that next time you have a thought like that, either word it differently or let it go." Rose got her second wind and accepted her books. She then stunned her friends by choosing to take another bite of her apple. Parvati shook her head, shutting her eyes.

"I mean what I said though," said Lavender, shaking out her hair. "Those doubts are probably because you've never been in a serious relationship."

"Oi! How low of you, Lav!"

"Take it easy, Rose," said Parvati. "She might have a point there."

"Oh sure, take her side," Rose shrugged. It didn't take a genius to realize that Rose didn't like that particular fact thrown around. "You know, I don't hang around you two all the time. You could be completely wrong for all you know."

Lavender snorted, quite amused. "Rose, if you had a whirlwind romance with some Muggle over the summer, I think we would know it by now."

Rose thought about it for a moment. She had to hand it to her giddy blonde friend; she probably would have bragged a little if something of the sort did happen. "Touché," she said, nodding. "Oh hell, but why are we turning this on me? I really am happy for you, Lav. Justin's a great guy, and to tell you the truth, I think he's a better match for you."

"You really think so?"

"Sure," Parvati agreed. "At least you and Justin actually talk to each other."

Lavender laughed. "Hey, Ron and I talked."

"Evidently, not enough," said Rose. Parvati couldn't help but nod in her direction. Lavender huffed. "This coming from a girl with no boyfriend."

Rose stepped forward and their blue eyes met. "I'm single, not naïve." Neither Lavender nor Parvati had the audacity to challenge that.

As they walked freely around the grounds, Rose's wandering eye found Harry sitting on a large boulder by the lakeshore. Ron and Hermione sat in the grass beside him, Ron's arm wrapped around his girlfriend's shoulder. Hermione turned her head, and upon seeing the ginger girl, she waved for her to come over. Rose politely excused herself from Lavender and Parvati and dashed over to the trio. She came to a stop just short of the water's edge and leaned up against Harry's rock.

"So Lavender and Justin finally hooked up," said Harry, looking down so that his glasses barely clung to the tip of his nose.

"Yeah, and about time too," Rose continued to munch on her now skinless apple. "You owe me two sickles, Ron."

Ron groaned. "Oh c'mon!"

"Ah-ah, you said that they wouldn't be official 'til October. I don't want to say I told you so, but I told you so."

"Lucky guess," Ron rolled his eyes. Rose saw this and laughed, joined by Harry. "Perhaps Divination wasn't totally useless after all," she chuckled. Again, Ron rolled his eyes. He promised her that she would have her money by the end of the month.

"No offense to Lavender, but I'm grateful that we don't travel in the same crowds," said Hermione, shaking her head and smirking. "To put up with that all day long, you and Parvati must have the patience of a saint."

"She's excited, cut her some slack," said Rose.

Ron laughed. "Well then, could you do us a favor and tell her to tone it down a bit?"

"Rose doesn't have any more control over her than you do, Ron."

"Thank you, Harry!" Rose shouted up the rock.

"I'm curious," Hermione said as she shifted closer to Rose. Ron rolled his eyes in that oh-here-we-go-again way only he could pull off. Thankfully for him, his girlfriend missed this. "Just what did you have to say about Lavender and Justin? After all, you do claim to be her friend."

"Stop that, Mione!" Rose shook her head. "I just said that I was happy for her, not like that means anything really. She and Parvati said I just didn't get it because I've never had a real, serious boyfriend. Then again, Lavender talks like I've only just been introduced to men. I don't know where she got that idea. She tried to kill me by the way, damn near choked to death." She displayed the weapon of choice, which was still dripping juice down her fingers. Hermione and Ron giggled.

"Anyway, I don't plan on becoming too involved," Rose continued, in between her gnawing. "I _am _single after all. I don't want anybody raping my ear with unwanted love stories. At least you two are modest." She noticed that the couple in the grass was still laughing under their breath. She also noticed that they were looking just beyond her. She turned as she followed their eye line. Up on his stone perch, Harry was playing some invisible violin. Rose snarled. "Oh ha-ha, very funny Harry."

"Just know that you're not the only one with relationship troubles, Rose."

"I know, I know. Geez, it's only been four weeks since you last saw Ginny. Keep your trousers on."

"But Rose, that's like –,"

"An eternity, I know," said Rose, doing Harry a favor by finishing his thought. "But at least you have Ginny to miss and brag about. I have to listen to almost all my girl-friends gush over their dates and I have nothing to show for that. What do you have to say to that, Potter?"

"That you make a good argument," Harry admitted.

Rose and Hermione smiled at each other, quite satisfied with themselves and their superior female logic. Ron merely shook his head; Harry really should try to challenge a woman sometime. Rose slid down the side of the boulder and sat down on the ground, setting her books down in the fresh grass.

"We're in for some long days the way I see it, you two especially." She motioned to Ron and Hermione. "As much as I like Lavender, I wouldn't be surprised if she tried to show off Justin to spite you."

Hermione let out an involuntary huff. "Don't even get me started. I wouldn't be surprised if she started waltzing around, proclaiming to the heavens that she's found her soul-mate." She looked over at Rose just in time to see an uncomfortable twitch in the corner of her mouth. "Oh my god, she is, isn't she?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but I can see that happening." Rose sounded a bit guilty, like it was a terrible betrayal to gossip about friends with another circle of friends. "Merlin help us all if it does because that has to be among the most ridiculous things I've heard in a long time. Really, you know a guy for a few weeks, you have one date, and suddenly you're planning out your whole future. People like that ought to slow the hell down. The_ Prophet's _personals are already full of marriage announcements."

"Wow, seven days with Snape and already you're starting to sound like him," said Ron, pulling Hermione in to tuck her head under his chin.

"Is that so? I thought that was rather kind." Rose eased herself back onto her feet, fingering what was left of her apple. She wrinkled her light brow with a crooked smirk. "Well if I ever do lapse into such madness, I give you my full permission to knock me upside the head with a textbook."

"Fair enough," Ron leaned back, propping himself up on his arm and taking Hermione back with him. "Mind if I borrow your Potions book?"

"No, use Transfiguration's. It's heavier," Harry joked. "That ought to knock some sense into her."

Rose looked out across the lake and squinted her eyes like she was trying to make out something in the distance. But then the blue orbs widened with focus. She took a step back, swung her arm, and tossed the apple core out high over the water. As if on cue, a great tentacle shot up out of the waves to catch it. It disappeared again with a splash.

"Nice shot!" said Ron.

"Thanks Ron, though probably more thanks to the giant squid."

Harry stared out over the calm lake, his dark green eyes wide open. Every so often, he would glance down at Rose as she talked with Ron and Hermione. Then he raised his eyebrows, an expression that suggested that he had suddenly gotten a brilliant idea.

"Say Rose," he said as he slid down the side of the rock and came to rest on his feet. "That's quite an arm you've got there."

"Oh, that's nothing. It's just good timing."

"That's a bit more than nothing if you ask me." Harry looked out at the ripples left behind by the squid. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what do you want?"

"You know that I'm holding Quidditch tryouts this weekend, right?"

"Oh yeah, finally! Could you be any more behind on that?"

Harry shrugged with a smile. "Yeah, yeah, I know we're late. But anyway, have you ever considered trying out for the team?"

Rose wrinkled her brow, shooting a quick look at Hermione. She then turned back to Harry. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Rose, are you blind? That was a great throw you did. Imagine doing something like that while hanging onto a broom with a Quaffle in your hand."

"You want me to try out for chaser?" asked Rose.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "You know that there are a lot of open positions this term, and from my view, we're at a loss for good chasers. I need as many people as I can get to try out."

Rose didn't need to be told this in the slightest. Since the start of term, she had been watching Harry worry himself into near panic when faced with leading a team with no recognizable talent, and very few players to choose from. Ron had once joked that the Head Boy would have to start whoring himself to in order to get new people to try out. "I don't know…" Rose shook her head.

"Why not?" asked Harry.

"Well," Rose's voice oozed with guilt again. "Forgive me, but it is a bit funny how certain people seem to get positions year after year." Her eye twitched in Ron's direction.

"What are you implying?" Harry wrinkled his eyebrows, staring into Rose's eyes.

"No offense to you, Ginny, or anyone else, but if I were to try out, how do I know that everyone would be getting a fair chance?"

Harry's face relaxed, not putting much effort in holding back the evident smirk. "Is that what those mates of yours thought we were doing?" he asked with a shake of his head.

"It wasn't all of them, just Natasha. At least Jonny had good sportsmanship." Rose could hear Ron and Hermione behind her, struggling to contain their laughter. She turned toward them and eased down onto the grass beside them. Harry too decided to sit down on the ground with his friends.

"Alright, so I might be a biased bastard," he chuckled. "But at least I make an attempt not to be."

"That's a very fine line, Harry," said Hermione. "I'd be careful with what you say."

"Ah Hermione, so you're on Rose's side now," Ron playfully taunted, letting his hand slip off her shoulder. The girls eyed the red-haired wizard in a way that only women could. "Confident that you'll be keeper again, Ron?" asked Rose in a teasing mock. Ron growled under his breath, but his face melted back into mush as Hermione stroked his leg. She planted a generous peck on his lips, which Ron happily accepted.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I assure you, Rose, I'm not as biased as I seem. If I'm partial to anything, it's skill on the pitch. Then again, if you had more interest in the team in the past, you would know that already."

"I'm as interested as the next Gryffindor," Rose sneered.

"I'm sure you are," said Harry. "What I mean to say is that everyone - and I mean _everyone_ – will be getting a fair shot."

Rose thought about it for a moment. Never before had she really considered going out for quidditch; it just wasn't that high up on her totem pole of priorities. It also seemed to be one of those things that required a majority of your friends to be in Gryffindor as well. Jonny and Natasha would have made that a bit difficult, right along with a number of others. But Rose just couldn't help but think from time to time. She often wondered what it felt like to be looked up to like that, to be the heroes of the house. What did it feel like to be the center of the school's most vivacious attention? As mild-mannered as Rose was in comparison, these thoughts were quite tempting to say the least.

"I suppose I could, if you're that desperate," she smiled at Harry. "It couldn't hurt. Besides, it's not like I have much else to do with my other friends halfway across the globe."

"It would certainly be more fun than being stuck in the dungeons for hours on end," said Ron. Hermione nodded her agreement. Rose turned to them with bright eyes and a big smile. "Eleven days! I'm counting them down. Eleven days, and I'm free!"

Harry commented on how Snape couldn't be so hard on Rose every night, but Rose was quick to remind him that given his past history with the Potions master, that particular comment was pretty empty. Ron sat forward and asked if anyone had any leftover snacks. Rose reached into her bag and produced a wrapped chocolate frog. She tossed it over to him. Hermione asked why Rose still carried those around; she couldn't possibly care for Wizard Cards at their age. Rose was all too kind to explain. She took advantage of her love of chocolate to make a profit, selling the cards to First years for a small price. The look on Harry's face suggested that he was considering getting in on that clever idea.

From behind, they could all hear loud, elated voices. The four of them looked over their shoulders and up the hill. Lavender and Justin were walking along the path back to the castle, hand in hand. Their joined arms swung in perfect sync with their steps. Neither did a thing to hide their proud smiles. They were happy to be together, and they wanted every living soul at Hogwarts to know about it.

"So," said Harry as he turned his attention back to his companions. "Who wants to bet that they'll be married by this time next year?"

**~HP~**

Alone in her dormitory next to an open window, Rose sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by books and parchment. At the moment, she was the epitome of multi-tasking. Her hands moved with remarkable speed as she wrote out a short essay on how one could predict her entire future using nothing more than a handful of dirt. At the same time, she was straining her neck to the side as she poured over a chapter on protective spells against curse-tablets. Her Potions book rested near the edge of the bed. Rose wanted to reread the chapter on medical brews, just in case Snape decided to use her again to satisfy his habit of verbal target practice. The gentle chorus of crickets was the only thing keeping her head on straight.

Oddly, Snape was the reason she was up in her quiet room. She had gone down to detention at seven thirty like she was supposed to, just as she had for the last seven nights. But after barely an hour and a half of squeezing the mucus from long dead flobberworms, she was told to wash up and get out. Though Rose was more than a little thankful for this slight reprieve, it was truthfully puzzling to her. She didn't even see much of Snape; he was kept up in his office most of the time. And every time he did grace her with his presence, Rose got nothing but vicious, yet aimless insults. She was left to figure out how a Second year's repeated trouble with the Hair-raising Potion was _her_ fault. And how did associating with Harry Potter factor into that?

But all in all, it was a good thing that Rose had the chance to retire early that night. Her mind wasn't really there; it hadn't been most of the day. She had done an excellent job of keeping this to herself as not one person thought anything was amiss. It had also been quite a task to keep it up for lack of opportunities to be by herself. Now that Hermione was off roaming the halls with Ron, ironically to get their own alone-time, this modest Rose was allowed to wilt into musing.

Her thoughts kept wandering back to her conversation with Lavender and Parvati, or perhaps just Lavender's light claim. Rose really did consider her former roommates to be her friends; they were among the first girls she did call friends at Hogwarts. They were all there for the endless spew of ranting and gossip that would happen over the course of seven long years. And Rose was genuinely happy for them when good things happened, Justin being one. But as everyone knew, those two were not her first choices for "Friend of the Year." They didn't know her as well as others did, Natasha and Jonny aside. However, that reality didn't really hit Rose herself until that afternoon. And all it took was the mention of how she had no boyfriend to brag about.

She suddenly found herself feeling like a Muggle woman she had heard her mother's friend gossiping about. What did that fat broad call her, the "designated third wheel?"

But it wasn't her single status that had Rose feeling lousy. If it was anything, it was indirectly caused by Lavender's sheer lack of awareness. The ditzy dimbo not only practically accused Rose of some teenaged sin, but she really did seem to be under the impression that Rose had not had much experience with men altogether. If she was half the friend she thought she was, she would have known that this was not true. Rose had been on her fair share of dates since she was younger, her first being with a Muggle boy from her village when she was fourteen. Trysts with others followed. But none of it was anything that Rose could call serious. Alright, so maybe Lavender had a point. But that didn't mean Rose was alright with basically being the single lady of the Gryffindor Seventh years.

Lavender was right about one thing; there is no way to describe love until you feel it for yourself. Regardless of what makes those feelings come about or where it takes you, it stays with you. But it's not an emotion that should be tossed around by loose tongues. You may find yourself proudly proclaiming your undying love, your only witness being someone who had felt that same gut-twisting affection.

And felt that same affection, Rose had.

She couldn't blame the other girls for not knowing. It was something that Rose never spoke about in company. More people knew about her father being in prison than about this. Yet for her, it took a person of incredible understanding to be worthy of knowing the depth of this secret. The trouble was that there weren't many to choose from. And even if there were, they had to be _really good_ at keeping a secret under pain of death for Rose to trust them fully. Not even Jonny or Natasha knew, and both had once claimed that it was safe for her to tell them anything. Hermione was the only person she had yet revealed any of her feelings to.

Unfortunately for Rose, the boy she so cared for was among the masses of people who didn't know. And even more unfortunately, he never would. Like too many in those recent days, he was long gone from Rose's life. But whereas others simply moved to another land, merely an owl post away, there was no way Rose would ever hear from this young wizard again. The only thing that would make it possible would be if Rose surpassed all wizards before her and undid the foundations of life. She would have to reverse death itself to get him back.

Many things had caused Rose to return to Hogwarts with a heavy heart, and this was the worst for the young witch. She had gone to great lengths to not go thinking of him, diverting conversations and avoiding his old haunting spots. Not even with Hermione would she talk about him, no matter how many times the Head Girl said it would help. To Rose, the best way to get over that man was to do her best to forget about him. After all, it's not like she had any reason to still hope. She was far too young to hold onto a lost love like that.

Rose shook her head with a deep sigh, bidding herself to dismiss her thoughts. She had better things to do than reminisce about that wonderful boy and her hopelessly stolen heart. She immersed herself into her work again, ignoring the need for sleep. She was pouring over her Potions book when the door slowly creaked open. Hermione had one heck of a goofy smile on her face as she glided across the floor. She flung herself over her bed and kicked up her legs. Rose hid her silent giggle behind her book.

"Looks like you had a good evening," she said, unable to resist.

"I thought that you would still be in detention," said Hermione, looking up at her canopy.

"Yeah, it seems that even Snape had better things to do tonight."

They talked for a few minutes about the Snape peculiarity that resulted in Rose sitting up there at a reasonable hour. There wasn't a doubt that Hermione was collecting as much information as she could, trying to draw some conclusion. Apparently, there was still too little as the conversation ended with both girls shrugging their shoulders.

Rose didn't need to ask Hermione what she did that evening. Her face said it all. It might have been odd to see this pure glee in the eyes of such a private witch if Rose wasn't one herself. But of course, this only served as proof of their close bond. Hermione did not have to blather on about how much she loved Ron because Rose already knew it. She knew that years ago, and she understood everything Hermione went through. She felt the beginnings of a knot forming in her chest.

Hermione motioned to her bedside clock and showed Rose that it was late. She was more than willing to remind Rose of what happened the last time she worked through the night. Rolling her eyes, Rose closed her book and dropped it to the floor beside her bed. Pity really; that chapter was actually an interesting read. In fact, there were some interesting points that she would want to investigate further. She smirked at the idea, the potioneer in her asserting its presence. She pushed the rest of her things off the bed and slipped under the covers.

**~HP~**

_**In case anyone is beginning to feel uneasy about this girl, I have to say that this is definitely not the last we will hear of this. In the next chapter, we will be getting back to Severus, for those who are following that storyline. But as you can plainly see, storylines often converge, and it takes a while.**_

_**Alright, explanation over. I'm going to go hide under my desk now. Thank you to everyone for reading and keep up the reviews!**_


	10. Know thy boundaries

**__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

The weekend could not have been slower to come for Severus. But once Saturday dawned on a cloudy morning, it was more than a relief. He was still plagued by fatigue, being sick had become part of his morning routine, and now he found himself heading for the loo after every class. But at the very least, the weekend meant that there would be no students. His classes were becoming more difficult since the retched snots seemed to be doing everything in their power to provoke his suddenly violent moods. If there's a bright side to everything, the only thing Severus could come up with was that he had his nasty reputation back.

He had intended to spend his entire Saturday in his quarters with only a good, _long _book for company. But having failed to turn up for breakfast again, Severus had to resign to tea time in the staffroom. Though he wanted nothing more than to be rid of his meddling colleagues' concerns, he knew that they would be doubled if no one saw him for a whole day. The last thing Severus needed was for Dumbledore to "drop in" with another little remedy of Pomona's. Really, at least Minerva had enough common sense to know that he neither needed nor desired anyone's help.

"I don't know what's gotten into Potter's head to wait this long to put a team together."

At the other end of the room, seated at a long table, Minerva was shaking her head as she incessantly stirred the tea before her. Pomona Sprout and Muggle Studies' Cassandra Wicker were seated on either side of her chair, and across the table, little Flitwick was engrossed in the _Daily Prophet's_ tricky crossword puzzle. The Deputy Headmistress pinched the bridge of her sharp nose. "For my sake, that boy had better turn up with the best Quidditch team since the turn of the century."

"Don't we all want that, Minerva?" said Pomona. "I'm grateful that there was sufficient talent left in my own house."

"Oh Pomona, I think we've all put enough pressure on our captains," said Filius. "If you ask me, we ought to leave them alone from now on or the Quidditch Cup will end up back on Severus's shelf."

"Oh we wouldn't want that, would we?" Minerva shouted to Severus's turned back, bitterly sarcastic. Severus didn't want give her the satisfaction of firing back. He didn't want to be there anyway. Why would he want to aggravate himself by pretending to be even remotely interested in their selfish sportsmanship?

"Did Potter ever say what took him so long?" asked Cassandra, buttering a biscuit.

"He mentioned to me that he needed more time to recruit," said Rolanda Hooch, who leaned on a wall near the window. She stood there only to give herself an excuse to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts currently in progress. "It's beyond me why he would think such nonsense."

"Oh, I know," Minerva raised her eyebrows. "I had First years coming up to me just to beg me to change school rules so that they might try out. And yet I heard talk that Potter thought that no one would want to go out for the team. If I ever find out who gave him that idea, I'll give them a piece of my mind." Severus rolled his eyes.

The door let out a moaning creak as Hagrid ducked his head to enter the room. "Aye, it looks like it'll be a ruddy good year for Gryffindor. Ol' Harry's puttin' 'em through the ringer."

Severus growled deep in his throat. It was bad enough that no one seemed to get off the topic of Potter, but now that Boy-wonder's biggest fan had arrived, it was all downhill from there. If Severus wasn't feeling so faint, he would have taken great pleasure in charging out of there. The only thing that could make it worse would be if Lupin suddenly showed up with his opinion.

"Cor, there must be at least half of Gryffindor house out there."

'_Speak of the devil,' _Severus thought. The retched werewolf had walked in, not too far behind Hagrid. Lupin almost immediately helped himself to a cup of tea and a biscuit before choosing to sit down in front of the fire. He was noticeably careful to keep his distance from the Potions master.

"Yes Remus, now let's hope there are twelve decent players in that lovely little bunch," said Minerva.

Severus balanced his teacup on his knee as his free hand dug into the arm of his chair. He watched Remus out of the corner of his tightly squinted eye as the DADA professor turned to face the others over the back of the sofa. "There's more than enough potential from what I could see. I'm impressed with the number of people interested this year. I could have sworn I saw Beckett up in the air with Thomas, Finnigan, and Robins."

"Aye, she was hangin' upside down when I passed by," said Hagrid. "I reckon she was dodgin' a bludger er somethin', but she looked like she was havin' trouble haulin' herself up again."

"Well, she got back up somehow because she was juggling the Quaffle with Robins," said Remus before taking a long swig of hot tea. "It's a bit funny actually. She never struck me as much of an athlete."

Minerva shook her head with a smirk. "Goodness, Beckett hasn't shown any interest in playing since Wood turned her away after only two test rounds. I can't imagine what has her out there today."

"I'm just taking a guess here, but I think Harry or Ron might have had a hand in that." Remus smiled. "Just a shot in the dark."

"It wouldn't surprise me in the least," said Cassandra. "She speaks very highly of them both, Potter in particular."

"Who doesn't?"

All eyes gravitated to Severus, who had suddenly interjected himself into the conversation with a snarl. He forced himself to turn around, staring toward the ladies at the table. "Do any of you have the slightest clue how ridiculous you sound? Cassandra, I can't blame you because you don't know. But the rest of you ought to know that Potter is_ not _the foundation of_ that damn team._"

"I'd beg to differ, Severus," Minerva objected. "Who was it who held onto the cup for seven years straight until that boy showed up?"

"Well, it must have occurred to just one of you that Potter is not some sort of god that must be worshiped for every last thing he does."

"I know that as well as you do," Remus chimed in. "But you must give him credit for something."

"As to that, I say that I'll expect the Cup to be back on my shelf by the first of May." Severus turned back to the fireplace. He suddenly came to sense that someone else had sat down on the sofa. He glanced over to find that Minerva had abandoned the table in favor of sitting by him.

"While I have you here, Severus, I have been meaning to ask you. How have you been feeling lately?"

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Severus snapped, trying to keep his voice low. "I've been getting along just fine."

"Poppycock!" Pomona's voice echoed across the room. "Severus, you looked terrible weeks ago, and you still look terrible today."

"My thoughts exactly," said Filius as he scribbled out what he thought was a three letter word for an unpleasantly disagreeable male. "Anyone in their right mind would see that."

Severus would have bit out a rather creative insult if Rolanda hadn't announced her departure, citing the Quidditch runs as her reason. Hagrid also took the opportunity to make an escape. He knew that this could turn very sour very quickly, and he would much rather be cheering on his favorite bunch of kids than get caught up in a row.

Pomona got up to stand behind the sofa. "Are you still having trouble keeping food down?" she asked Severus.

"It's been manageable," said the irritated Potions master. He vaguely wondered what gave them all the impression that butting into his private life was a privilege.

There was a tap and rustling as Filius set down his quill and folded up his newspaper. "Manageable? Severus, let's be sensible. I don't think I've met a single soul who could call worshipping the porcelain gods manageable."

"If it doesn't keep me from my work, then it's no real concern." Severus did not turn to address his overbearing colleagues. He noticed Minerva roll her eyes as she drained the last of her tea.

"I'm surprised that it doesn't affect your work," said Remus, leaning into the cushions. "Perhaps you should consider resting for a few days, get some vigor back."

"Don't tell me how to do my job, Lupin," Severus snarled.

Cassandra pushed her empty cup away and rose from the table. She cautiously walked over to where Severus sat and came around the side of his chair. "You know Severus," she started, pumping up her confidence as she tossed her thick brown hair over her shoulder. "If you're having problems with your stomach, perhaps you should try Muggle motion sickness bands. They go around your wrists and they are supposed to really help relieve nausea. My sister used them when she was pregnant; cleared that morning sickness right up!"

"Cassandra," Severus stopped her before shifting his coal-black eyes to the brunette witch. "Have you forgotten that there are potions that do the exact same thing and are just as effective? Or are you simply attempting to continue the legacy of all the doomed Muggle enthusiasts before you?"

Cassandra was crestfallen as she took a step back and away. "I was only trying to help," she said, her small voice becoming smaller.

"For your information, I don't need anyone's help, especially from timid little witches who make a living by trying to show how Muggles can upstage wizards with the smallest of things."

"Well," said Cassandra, suddenly snarling as she planted her hands on her waist. "Perhaps if you gave Muggle solutions a chance, then it wouldn't be upstaging, would it?"

Severus's face went white with rage, all power of thought forcibly flung out of the window. "Are you a witch or not?!" he growled.

"Are you with us or the Death Eaters?!"

That's when Severus shot up out of his chair. The sickly weakness had suddenly given way to a burst of energy that was only brought on by rage. But before he could even think of reaching for his wand, or even clenching a fist, Remus flew across from his place on the couch and pushed Severus back down, putting most of his unnatural strength behind him. Severus could now also feel Pomona's firm grip on his shoulders, securing him in his seat. Minerva had stood up in the commotion and Cassandra was now cowering behind her. The Muggle Studies teacher had her hand over her mouth like she was shocked by her own words. Her big brown eyes were wide with panic.

"You dare to say that to my face, you bitch!"

"Severus, I'm so sorry!" Cassandra pleaded. "I didn't mean it!"

"But you say it anyway?!" Remus and Pomona had to struggle to keep Severus in the chair. The furious wizard repeatedly tried to knock Remus aside, rather underestimating the werewolf's stamina. Remus grunted as he wrestled to restrain Severus's thin arms. But Severus's burning eyes were locked on the quivering woman behind Minerva. "How dare you, Wicker?! How dare you?! You do not know me, and you do not know what I've been through to be here now! If you think that you can come in here and say whatever you damn well please, then you better get the hell out of here before you end up in a whole new world of torment!"

"Severus, stop that this instant!" Minerva commanded. "Do us all a favor and calm down."

"Please!" Remus gasped.

"Come along, Cassie," Filius shuffled over and tugged on her sleeve. His voice betrayed his sense of urgency. "Let me walk you back to your office. I forgot to tell you about these delightful musical pieces I found for your lessons." He ushered Cassandra out of the staffroom with a steady hand, ready to defend if Snape broke free.

Once they were safely out the door, Severus gave up the fight and somewhat relaxed into the chair. With no one to protect, Pomona and Remus felt it was safe enough to let go of Severus's tense form, though not safe enough to give him space. Minerva quickly saw to that, swatting at Remus until he eventually ended up in the middle of the room. Pomona calmly excused herself from her colleagues. As she closed the door behind her, more than one of them thought they heard her mumble something about delivering a bottle of Baileys to Cassandra's quarters.

Severus breathed hard through tightly clenched teeth, leaning in on himself and cradling his head in his hands. Minerva watched him with deep concern. She had heard loose talk among the students of the Potions professor's volatile moods and his dramatic turns for the worse. But this was the first time she had seen just how easy it was to set him off. And even though such bouts of anger were nothing new when dealing with Severus Snape, this frightening frequency was unusual for him.

The elderly witch looked around at the spilled tea and broken cups around her feet. She noticed that Remus was still standing at the room's center, as though waiting for some sort of command. Minerva looked at Severus again and understood that if she wanted Severus to relax, then the other wizard would have to go. "Remus, would you mind if we had a moment alone?" she asked.

Remus nodded, not offended by the Deputy headmistress's request for privacy. Truthfully, he didn't want Severus to have an aneurism anymore than Minerva did. But he didn't need to be told that his presence was adding to the problem. "I'll return in a few minutes, there was something I forgot in my office anyway." He calmly left the room, grabbing an extra biscuit on his way out.

Minerva sat down on the couch and turned her full attention back to Severus, who now looked more pained than stressed. "Just take deep breaths, dear," she said, her gentler, more motherly voice taking over. Slowly but surely, Severus did as he was told. He leaned his body back and sank into the cushion again. A pale hand was still pressed to his forehead.

"Severus, what happened?" asked Minerva, drawing his attention. "What was that all about?"

Severus shook his head with a wrinkled brow. "Minerva, you try keeping your head when the whole damned world seems bent on obliterating any scrap of privacy you could hope for." His head fell back as the whole room seemed to lose grip on its axis. Severus let out a deep breath, hoping it would make the slow spinning stop.

"You're not well again," Minerva assumed, to which Severus responded with a gentle shake of his head. "What's the matter? What are you feeling?"

"Lightheaded, just very lightheaded," said Severus.

"Have you had anything to eat?"

"Only some toast at breakfast."

Minerva looked surprisingly relieved to have heard that. "Well, at least we know that you actually ate something this morning." She rose up again and walked back to the long table. The hem of her robes swept the floor with every quiet step. She took hold of a plate and piled on three decently sized biscuits. She then made her way back over to the fireplace and held the little plate out to Severus. "Eat those. That should hold you over for a while, at least."

Severus eyed Minerva as she spelled away the mess and once again took her place on the sofa. She in turn watched him as he gingerly nibbled on one of the dry pastries. But then she sighed. "This can't go on much longer, Severus," she said. "You can't go on with this denial."

"Why is that?" asked Severus, sneering as though to tell her he didn't need an explanation.

"Why?" Minerva raised her eyebrows. "Because there is no sense in it anymore. Even the students are beginning to whisper about your behavior. Severus, you are sick and your potions are just not helping you. I have known you for a very long time; I understand your need for privacy. But there's only so long I can just stand and watch."

"Minerva, I meant what I said before. My health problems have been an inconvenience, I cannot deny that. But as long as I can get up and teach my classes, then that's all I ask for. I don't care what I have to do to achieve that."

"Then maybe you should consider getting some help," said Minerva. "Potions might be a temporary solution, but it's not enough. If it was just a virus, you would be well over it by now. And I'm sorry Severus, but I think that you are getting worse."

She waited for Severus to finish eating the biscuits and then patted the spot beside her, bidding him to sit. To her surprise, Severus slowly moved from one seat to the next. But he stared at the floor instead of turning to face her. "You are sick so often that I'm afraid you will start to lose weight. You don't need to be any thinner, you know."

"I know that," Severus rolled his eyes.

"Not to mention that your poor health is severely affecting your mood. Your temper alone is on a hair trigger."

"I rather thought that was nothing out of the ordinary. The students especially should have accepted that long ago."

"No Severus, your anger has gone to a whole other level." Minerva pointed a finger at Severus's face. "You create conflicts out of nothing, when you have no reason at all to go attacking people. What happened with Cassandra was unacceptable."

"But you heard what she said!" Severus exclaimed.

"I did, and I will speak with her later. But don't make this about her. That argument would not have happened if you hadn't deliberately jumped down her throat when all she was trying to do was help."

"Why must everyone insist on helping me?" asked Severus. "For years, I got by with barely a concern from anyone. Why must that change?"

"Maybe they are trying to show you some respect," Minerva suggested. "But even so, why don't you swallow your pride just this once?"

Severus was quiet for quite some time. He leaned forward to rest his chin in his hands. Minerva bent over to look into his dark, hollow eyes, and she felt a knot in her chest at the sight of such miserable emptiness. "We really are worried about you, Albus and I. We had expected for you to have some trouble settling into life at Hogwarts again, but no one could have foreseen this. Surely, you must be getting tired of feeling so rotten every single day."

The exhausted man had to blink away the mist that was beginning to cloud his vision. He hated this so much. He hated how Minerva used compassion to lull him, hoping there was a confession to be drawn out. But what was she expecting to hear from him? Because it couldn't have been nearly as awful as the grotesque secret he held. Even if Severus felt safe with Minerva and Albus, safe enough to reveal to them that he had been raped, he would still keep it inside. What could they possibly do that would even remotely have a chance of helping him.

But still, he was fed up with his body being so out of his control, and no amount of pride could bury that. Though the last thing he wanted to do was admit defeat, he nodded his head. "I suppose you will say that all I've been doing is waiting for these problems to go away on their own accord."

"And I'm not the only one," said Minerva. "Albus agrees with me; you should have seen a Mediwitch days ago. Please Severus, no matter what it may seem, we do care about you. We don't just value you as a teacher, but as a friend, and Albus and I only want you to have the best. Don't make your life more difficult by being the stubborn bastard that you are."

Severus's eyes were glued to the floor as he thought, Minerva watching and waiting. "If it goes on much longer, I'll see Poppy."

"Is that a promise?" Minerva arched her eyebrow.

Severus sighed. "Yes, I promise. And you can pass that on to the headmaster."

"Don't think that I won't, although I believe you are more than capable of doing it yourself." Minerva would have gone on, but was interrupted by Remus returning with a newspaper tucked under his arm and a folded bit of parchment in his hand.

"Oh, are you still talking?" He raised his brow in surprise. "I can come back later."

"No need, Remus. We're quite through here." Minerva's voice seemed to perk up from the deeply serious tone that Severus had endured. "Actually, I was about to tell Severus that I agree with your idea. He should rest some for the rest of today, and tomorrow as well."

Remus looked like Minerva had just been referred to him as a genius. He humbly shook his head and waved the old woman off, though not without a smug smile. Severus saw this and could already feel a sharp increase in his blood pressure. At the rate he was going, Lupin might end up as the lucky bastard to "unintentionally" pop him off.

"Yes, quite right," said Remus. "It's for the best after all. If you like, Severus, I can take Miss Beckett's detentions from now on."

"No need for that, Lupin," Severus snapped as he slowly rose to his feet.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want you to overexert yourself."

"Oh, so I'm an invalid now, am I?" sneered Severus. "Luckily for me, Beckett seems to have noticed my poor health and has been respectful enough to behave herself and stay quiet afterward."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "So much for throwing her out of the castle with your bare hands."

"See, that's more the Rose Beckett I've come to know," said Minerva. "Besides, as her Head of House, I wouldn't want her to put any unneeded stress on you."

Severus snorted. "Trust me, Minerva; she's already done that and then some. But I must admit, these detentions have proven to be quite useful. You two want me to rest, then I will rest. Just be warned that Beckett will be worked harder than the house-elves during the holidays. If she is of any use to Saint Potter, I will take great delight in keeping her from him and his championship team."

Minerva and Remus exchanged looks of house-influenced frustration as Severus turned to leave. Though he was able to walk, he was a bit unsteady, his arms raised to balance himself out. He would have made a quick getaway if Minerva had not stopped him to force one more biscuit on him.

**~HP~**

Rest, Severus did, and quite happily at that. Feeling that he had some sort of permission to sink back into his reclusive tendencies, the weary, woozy Potions master tucked himself away in his quarters for the remainder of the day. Evidently, the message had been passed on to other teachers as no one came looking for him. For once, he was grateful that Minerva had his back. At least she had the ability to divert Cassandra from marching down and demanding an apology. An eternity could pass before that happened.

He stayed laid out on his comfortable sofa long into the evening, a copy of _The Practical Potioneer _in his lap. He even chose to take in his dinner in total privacy. In fact, no one in the castle would see his face again until Rose wandered down for detention, forcing Severus to pick himself up again.

Presently, the ginger-haired student was on her knees, on top of a counter at the back of the dungeon classroom while Snape watched on from his desk. He had suddenly decided that the jars on the classroom shelves needed a good dusting. Rose grunted and winced as she reached up to the high shelves, a filthy rag in hand. The braid that her hair had once been so neatly tied into was now a frazzled mess hanging from the back of her head. Her pale face and hands had gone pink with effort.

Severus had rather settled into evenings as of late. In the span of a week and a half, Rose had reverted back to what she usually was in class. She was quiet and mild-mannered. Talk had become more and more limited as each night passed, though Severus thought that it was merely because Rose thought it right to stay silent. But whatever her reason, Severus was glad that the girl was manageable, not to mention terrifically useful. His long list of classroom chores would have been a lot longer if she hadn't been there to do it all for him. It often took several hours, even days, but she always got the job done. Severus vaguely wondered what he would do once the week was out.

He was leaning over his copy of the Potions journal, more interested in an intriguing article than in his dust-and-sweat-covered student. Had Beckett been any other student, he probably would be watching her and his ingredients like a hawk. Little wonder how those shelves got so dirty in the first place. She however had proven herself trustworthy enough to handle such valuable concoctions. Severus almost enjoyed ignoring the girl, not even looking up when he heard her yelp as she lost her delicate balance. He didn't care as long as he didn't hear glass break.

"Professor Snape?"

Severus looked up, distracted by Rose's voice. The young woman had shifted her stance to face him while she repeatedly rubbed off a jar of daisy root. Her face and her voice were relaxed, which was a bit perplexing to the greasy wizard. "What is it, Beckett?" he asked.

"Have you finished grading the Blood-Replenishing Potions we made yesterday?"

"I have not. Why do you ask?"

"I just wanted to know if you've seen mine yet." Rose tilted her head to the side as her lips twitched into an uneasy smile. Snape just couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "You just couldn't wait until Monday's class, could you?"

"I'm sorry sir, but the wait is killing me," said Rose. "Yes, I want to know how I did."

The Potions master flipped the page of his magazine, letting his black eyes fall back down. "You never fail to astound me with your audacity," he said. "And to think that some people have questioned your house placement. Hmm, perhaps sometimes it becomes more obvious with age."

Rose rolled her eyes, sighing in the back of her throat. "Pardon me, but I don't think my request is that outlandish. Please Professor, how did I do?"

Snape again looked up at Rose. It was truly quite odd to look at her, not a spark of hostility in her face and a curious glimmer in her eye. Sure, she and Severus had learned to live with each other each evening, but he never considered these detentions to be this casual. Not to mention that the blasted girl was taking time out of her own punishment to actually be a student. And yet there was something about her that Severus felt deserved to be entertained. Growing concerned for his own mental state, Severus searched his mind for the appropriate words.

"Let me ask you this, Beckett. How do you think you did?"

Rose raised her light eyebrows, surprised by Snape's question. "Well…I had hoped that I did well. I was up late the night before rereading that chapter in the book –,"

"Why does that not surprise me?"

Rose took a few seconds to calmly breathe away that sudden tension. "As I was saying, I studied until I was sure I had it right. But you know you can never be too sure."

"Unless you are your know-it-all Head Girl," Snape sneered.

"Do you seriously think that I could compare myself to her?" Rose set the jar in her hand back on the shelf and shifted her legs so that she could sit properly. "Make no mistake; I know what I'm doing. But I can't help but worry that I've made a mistake of some kind."

"Miss Beckett, I had no idea that you were a paranoid nutter," said Snape. "Then you will be relieved to know that your concerns are unwarranted."

The glimmer returned to Rose's face. "My potion was alright then?" she asked.

"I took a look at it, and it was flawless. Are you happy now?" Snape gave her a brief moment to nod her thanks. "Good, now get back to work. I want all of those cleaned off before you leave. Oh, and if you mention your potion to even one person, consider it an utter failure."

"Is that a threat?" said Rose as she cocked an eyebrow. She lifted herself back onto the tabletop and then stood up to reach the topmost shelf. "You wouldn't dare do such a thing."

"I would and I have." There wasn't much need for elaboration on Snape's part; he knew that she knew what he meant. To his surprise, Rose laughed, muffling her unusually high giggle behind pressed lips. "Please, I have nothing to merit that, and I haven't done anything worthy of senseless spite."

Snape successfully suppressed a deep growl. "Still believe Potter's every word, I see."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," Rose paused to spit on a particularly stubborn jar of newt's eyes. "But you know, it probably helps that one too many people have seen the senseless spite, unless you were about to call my friends ignorant."

Sassy, sassy, sassy, Snape thought to himself. He however had to be frank with himself. He was tired of fighting with her, even if it was for his own amusement. He was also a tad bit to weary to even care for a fight with anyone. The Potions master made the choice to silently surrender and left the young witch to her work, ignoring the sound of the occasional hawk of saliva.

Snape was enthralled in a scholarly account on the improvements being made to Anti-Splattergroit potions when a hard thud signaled Rose's dismount off the counter. She took a moment to carefully straighten her legs and then took a step toward the desk. "Those shelves are done."

"So I see," said Snape. He pointed to two more very high shelves at the side of the room and demanded that those jars be dusted too. Rose let out a huff as she looked at the clock. It was approaching nine thirty and that day had been quite exhausting to say the least. But still she took up the rag again and retrieved a step ladder from the back.

These jars were mostly empty and long disused, and therefore easy to clean off. Rose wiped away the grime and cobwebs with swift speed, almost waiting for Snape to tell her to slow down. Of course, this made her psych herself out like she was being watched. On one of her compulsive head turns, she managed to catch a glimpse at what her greasy professor was reading.

"Is that the new _Practical Potioneer_?"

"Yes, Miss Beckett, it is," said the Potions master, flipping the page with a snap.

Rose cleared her throat and tried to avoid his dark glare. To Snape, she looked like she was trying to rid herself of some unspoken tension as she looked back to him. "I don't mean to bug you, sir, but did you happen to see that Swedish wizard's theories on the possibility of a Memory Restorative Draught?"

"I did, but why, pray tell, are you bringing it up now?"

Rose shifted bright eyes. "I just thought that I'd ask you what you thought of it."

"What brought on this?"

"Well, Hermione and I were having a chat about the article earlier, and we're a bit at odds. She thinks it's entirely possible, but I'm not so sure. I'd like a professional's opinion."

Now this was bizarre. This was a complete turnaround from the hormonal bitch that had trapped them there. At first, Severus was unsure of how to react. On one hand, she was terribly annoying for such a late hour. But on the other, she was being respectful of his experience. Alright, so maybe she wasn't being as ridiculous as he was trying to convince himself. Perhaps this was her way of trying to be some kind of civilized witch.

"I agree with Granger; such a brew is quite possible. However, I must also agree with the article. If this potion is ever eventually created, it can only be achieved by a wizard who has incredible skill in memory magic."

"You see, that's what I thought. From what I've read, it doesn't seem that the average wizard off the street could make it. I don't even think that most healers could make it. I think Hermione realized that after thinking about it for a while." Rose paused when she looked over her shoulder at Snape's cocked eyebrow. "What?"

"You never struck me as one to prefer scholarly research over that rubbish you call women's magazines," said Snape, running his long fingers through greasy curtains.

"Hey, what I do with my time is no one's business but my own." Rose set a clean jar back on the shelf. "And besides, I read _Practical Potioneer _to hear what other people have to say about the art. There's only so far conversation can go among students. It's interesting to look at what the experts can do, you know, outside the books."

Snape's hollow eyes thinned out. "What you mean to say is that you read about these advanced potions and you want to try them for yourself."

"Ha, I'm good, but I'm not daft," said Rose, hanging onto the shelf to keep her balance. "I couldn't even trust myself with potions like those."

"Quite right, it would take you years to reach that level of experience. May I remind you that you will not always have Granger to lean on. Strange really, wasn't it a little over a week ago that you shoved your good marks in my face?" Snape stared at Rose as she flushed a light pink with an uneasy smile. He shook his head. "Trust me, Beckett. Self-denial is not only very annoying, but it is also a dreadful waste of breath."

"Sorry," said Rose, not really sure why she had to apologize, though that may have been due to the perplexity of that bit of advice. Was that supposed to be advice? Given her house, Rose had no idea how to respond except to give Snape the quiet that he wanted. She had shown enough bravery in attempting conversation with the visibly worn out wizard. Wisely, she allowed time to crawl in silence, decreasing the awkward tension she realized she had created.

Having read it cover to cover, Severus tossed his magazine aside in favor of watching Rose stand on her tip-toes to reach the far end of the shelf. He was satisfied with her speed, though she nearly gave him a heart attack every time her fingers slipped. But it looked like his day would soon come to an end, and he could get a head start on his Sunday off. He was also beginning to feel the familiar discomfort that was the call of nature…again. In his book, the faster Rose worked, the better.

He had briefly looked away when he heard Rose yelp as she lost her footing. He looked back to see her hanging onto the shelf by the sheer strength of her fingers, tips edging toward a large jar. He suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline when he saw that she was trying to grab hold of a jar of aconite. "Beckett, before you destroy my valuable inventory, perhaps you should consider moving the ladder."

The Gryffindor squinted to read the faint label. "Oh damn, sorry!" The Potions master watched as Rose hopped to the floor and dragged the step ladder over a bit, the wood scraping loudly across stone. Rose was up again in three quick steps.

Snape was a little wide-eyed; aconite should not be out in the classroom where anyone could get a hold of it. If he knew of the bastard that left it up there, whoever they might have been, they would not have time to know what hit them. And in addition, though the toxic plant was necessary to the older students, aconite was quite expensive, and that jar was enough to match a month's salary.

"I'll take that," he said as he got to his feet. He slowly glided over and took the jar from Rose, who had unquestioningly handed it down to him. He then retreated into his office to store it away. Behind the privacy of that door, he took the opportunity to visit the loo for the third time that night. Hopefully, Beckett wouldn't question his repeated absence. But then again, she didn't seem to be in a terribly intrusive mood. Flushing the toilet, Severus stepped out into his office. He smoothed out his robes before reentering the classroom. Rose had her back turned, washing off her rag in the sink. He calmly made his way back over to his desk chair.

"So Professor, have you been feeling any better lately?"

'_Shit, piss, and corruption!' _Though irritated, Severus knew that he had to choose his words carefully. He couldn't allow himself to throw all of his frustrations with his body onto this relatively innocent student. "Yes, somewhat," he sighed as he sat down.

"Did you get over that bug you had?"

"Mostly," Snape lied with a weak sneer. "Thank you for your pity. Professor McGonagall would be so proud."

Rose shook off the mock. "I'm serious sir; I do hope you're okay. It's no fun to be that ill, I know."

"I'm sure you do," said Snape. "But I'll tell you what I have told my equally nosy colleagues. I'm alright as long as I can function."

"You shouldn't be angry at them for caring for your wellbeing."

"I don't need you to act as my conscience. I have heard enough as it is."

Rose dropped the dust-stained rag into the sink basin and lightly walked over to the desks. "I can't really help myself sometimes." She lifted herself up onto a front desk. "I suppose it's the Hufflepuff in me trying to get out." Rose smirked at that, as did Snape.

"Animosity towards Hufflepuff, I see."

"Oh hardly; up until recently, I was best friends with one. But in any case, Professor, you must know that I might be right about something."

"What do you not understand?" Snape snarled. "I do not need to be harried by you or anyone else."

"I'm not trying to harass you," defended Rose. "I'm just acting on observation. You know we're not blind, right? All the students have been whispering about you for days."

"I'm surprised that you assume I wasn't aware of that," said Snape. "I'm sure that you have been providing them with a firsthand account."

"I'll be honest, yes, but not everybody. You could call me a meddling bitch if you like, but it's a bit difficult to not be suspicious. Not with the way you've been biting people's heads off."

Severus stared into the girl's face, and the arch in her thin eyebrow seemed to give away some prejudice she was obviously trying to keep locked up. His deep eyes thinned. "You know about what happened to Professor Wicker, don't you?"

Rose seemed to lose her nerve as her lips contorted and she shifted her behind further up the desk, keeping her a safe distance from him. "Well…I…not directly. I came in from the Quidditch pitch and I passed Professor Sprout talking to Professor Sinistra. I guess I kind of eavesdropped." Her eyes darted away, like that would deflect any hex that came her way. Snape just shook his head.

"If you knew the whole story, you wouldn't be on that retched woman's side."

"I don't believe I said I was on her side." Rose shook her head.

"You have had tea with her, you like her too much. In a contest between her and I, I believe anyone would say you would go with her." Snape could have just snarled at the nervous Gryffindor. Rose sighed as she looked to the ceiling. "That doesn't mean I'm loyal to her only. Merlin, it's no wonder you butt heads with people. You twist words around."

"Miss Beckett, you are lecturing me again," the Potions master scolded "I could go on about how my private matters are none of the teachers' business, but it is most definitely none of yours. What gave you the impression that it was is beyond me."

Rose propped her arms on the desk as she leaned back. Her gaze turned inward, silently contemplating if she had any right to continue. Yet it was surprising to her that she wasn't in trouble for supposedly overstepping a boundary or two. "I'm sorry Professor. You're right, I'm out of line. But it's only because I have the upmost respect for you as a wizard, and as my professor. Don't get me wrong; you are a stubborn git, and nothing that anyone can say is going to change that anytime soon. However, I wouldn't wish a long illness on my worst enemy. I think that your so-called meddling colleagues are pushing you to get help because they feel you don't deserve that." Rose took a brief moment to simply look at her incredulous professor. She felt those black holes boring into her whole being, but Snape made no move to stop her from talking. She took in a deep, solid breath of air. "And I feel the same way."

Snape's brow contorted in spite of himself. "Forgive me, but are you not the same Gryffindor brat who so daintily told me to go fuck myself? I cannot possibly believe that you would think of me so highly as to find my health grievously unfortunate."

"In light of recent events, I find that a little difficult," said Rose. "Professor, even you must admit that what you have done through the years deserves to be revered."

"Miss Beckett, you should know that I did none of it for glory, unlike some."

Rose shook her head with a peculiar tweak in her brow. "I know that, but it's still true. And war hero or not, you still know what you're doing with your brews. For me, frankly that's enough."

"You just don't give up, do you?" asked Snape, quiet enough to be mistaken for a whisper.

"Not when I know I can do someone good." Rose slid off of the desk, her hands moving to smooth out her skirt. She stepped toward the head desk and leaned against the dark wood. "Professor Snape, I won't be the least bit offended if you ignore everything I say. I just hope that just this once, you think about yourself. You are aware that you don't have to be a martyr anymore, right?"

"You believe that I would take advice from a student who is middling enough to require all night studying?" It was a weak attempt to pester, but an attempt all the same. Severus vaguely wondered why he even bothered at all. He noticed Rose fighting against the smirk tugging at her thin lips. "Don't try me," she warned. "I have my priorities like anyone else."

"Oh yes, I'm sure you would put Quidditch before your schoolwork anytime. How did that turn out, by the way?"

Rose glanced from side to side, a bit cautious. "I'm on reserve…chaser."

"Hmm, couldn't even secure an official spot." Snape ignored the utterly slighted look in Rose's wide eyes and gapping mouth.

He looked to the clock; it was twenty minutes to eleven. Where had the time gone? He told Rose to grab her discarded robe and return to Gryffindor Tower. Feeling the weight of the day, Snape followed her out of the door and locked it with a charm. He turned and bid Rose goodnight, reminding her of the next night's time. She responded with a simple nod, and started down the hall. Severus stood by the door until the sound of her footsteps faded into the dense silence.

He listened to the heels of his boots clicking on the stone as he slowly walked back to his quarters. The wards opened under his hand and once inside, he carefully closed the door behind him. Summoning a glass of water, Severus collapsed onto the sofa and kicked off his boots. In that moment, that old sofa was comfortable enough for him to consider not even going to bed. He could have slept right there, he didn't care. The only thing that was stopping him was the realization that such peculiar angles would worsen the dull aches in his neck, back, and legs.

Severus lay there in silence, watching the clock tick away. He could still hear the concerned voices of Minerva, Lupin, and Beckett. Beckett's in particular stuck rather stubbornly. In those uncomfortable moments, the tone of her voice was almost familiar, though he couldn't quite figure out how. But all the same, her words were repetitive, but they stayed, mingling with the affection of Minerva McGonagall and the wisdom of Albus Dumbledore.

He had to wonder to himself if it was still worth it to ignore them. It was obvious that willing away his health troubles was not working, and likely never would. Yet he couldn't bear the thought of being poked and prodded by Poppy Pomfrey. It was her hands who touched him after he had been raped, and even if she did not know that, Severus still felt so violated, and he never wanted to put himself through that again. It was simply all a matter of waking up one morning feeling like he was twenty again. And he hoped to the highest heavens that that day would come sooner than later. Though his mind was cluttered with unwanted thoughts, the prospect of more long days ahead, Severus went to bed that night celebrating his one good triumph that term. Rose Beckett had owned up to ultimate defeat with a simple admission of respect.

Noble…very noble indeed. Perhaps he just caught a glimpse of the girl that Cassandra described as a total sweetheart.

**~HP~**

_**So what did you guys think of our first real glimpse of Professor Wicker? I'm not going to lie, she is a really fun character to write, and I cannot wait to get deeper into the plot because that fun is going to spill over into the story.**_

_**Just in case anyone is interested, that little curse exclamation that Severus thought to himself "Sh-, piss, and corruption," that is a little nod to my best friend from school. She used to say that all the time when we were seniors in high school, and if she hadn't been such a pain in the neck and teased me all the time into writing (the Lord of the Rings fics we created were the crackiest of the crack) I might not still be doing it today. Thanks Bekah, I miss you!**_

_**Two more chapters coming in the next day or two, and them I'm taking a short break. Keep on reading, and keep on reviewing!**_


	11. Here on this night

**_Hey readers, just thought I'd give you a heads up about this chapter. It's one of those chapters that my best friend and Beta refers to as a filler chapter, in which nothing really happens except character interaction. But the problem is that I wrote this years ago, and I just could not find it in my heart to cut it out. I might regret this later, but it's up to you guys._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Harry and Ron chose to spend their calm Thursday afternoon unwinding at Hagrid's. Their housemates were all in class or elsewhere, freeing up time for themselves. They hadn't had much chance to chat with the groundskeeper since the so-called "War of the Roses," and with the workload from being a Seventh year finally beginning to build up, it was a comfort to know that there was at least one teacher who wouldn't put too much pressure on them. The cloud of the next day's double Potions looming over their heads, they stretched casual tea into a longer stay which included, on Hagrid's bidding, a quick visit with the hippogriff that was once Buckbeak.

By the time three thirty rolled around, the Head Boy and his best mate found themselves outside the Fat Lady's portrait. Harry had called a sudden meeting of the newly formed Gryffindor Quidditch team, and he hoped that the message had spread to everyone by now. With the first game of the season not far off, they had a lot to discuss and a lot of catching up to do with practice. To put it one way, this impromptu assembly had to happen in order to stop Harry's blood pressure from rising.

As they crawled through the entrance hole, they saw that the couch was occupied by Nicolas Bowman, the new reserve Seeker. The Third year had rather impressed Harry on the pitch and possibly had enough skill to take over the position in the near future. By a far window, Rose had claimed a small table for herself. Her cauldron was set up over a low flame, a rosy colored steam floating up to the high ceiling. Her copy of _Witch Weekly _was open beside it to a back page. In front of her, her potions book was open. Other than that, the common room was mostly deserted, save for the occasional passing student.

"Glad to see you two got the message," said Harry with a shrug.

"Hold your horses, Harry." Rose's voice floated up with the brewing steam. "Demelza's upstairs. She'll be down in a minute."

Harry let out a sigh of slight relief. Demelza Robins was good at spreading word around the team. He threw down his school bag and walked over to stare over Rose's shoulder. "Bloody hell Rose, are you rereading that chapter again?"

"Nope, the next one," said Rose without looking up. "Double Potions tomorrow, just getting ahead."

"Geez, give it a rest, will you?" Ron fell back into a chair, snickering to himself. "You're as bad as Hermione is these days."

"I heard that!" Ron jumped as Hermione came down the stairs and approached him with her Arithmancy and Ancient Runes books in hand. The ginger-haired wizard blushed and showed his apologies with a kiss to the back of her hand. Behind them, Rose shook her head with a smirk.

"Look guys, I'm trying to prove to Snape once and for all that I know what I'm doing with Potions, because frankly, I'm tired of him riding me. Every day, some sort of comment, and I'm fed up with it! I'm even better than that, I'll bet. I could be as good as Hermione on a great day."

"I suppose Snape leaving you alone is fair motivation," said Harry.

"You mean reputation isn't enough?" Dean and Seamus, new Chaser and Beater respectively, had just entered the room. They claimed another table at the other end of the room, both ignoring Rose's playful snarl.

"Shut up, Dean. And besides, you heard the man. He's been hinting for days that there will be a test soon. I personally am not taking any chances that he decides to give it tomorrow." Evidently, not many of her year-mates had really considered such an idea, if the contorted brows and muffled groans were anything to judge by.

Steadily, other members of the team began to wander in and settle down about the room. Rose closed her book and moved closer to her cauldron. But instead of turning off the small burner, she made more than a few people flinch by dunking her hands into the hot brew. "Oi, are you out of your mind?!" exclaimed Ron. Rose looked like she was thinking the same question, as did many of the other girls about the room. "It's what you are supposed to do," she explained. "Just look at the magazine."

Letting curiosity get the better of him, Harry meandered over to read the recipe for _Blossom's Skin Rejuvenating Serum, _which took up half of the page. He looked up at the witch, her hands still submerged in deep lilac liquid. "Really Rose?"

"What? With the work Snape's been making me do, my hands have gone to hell."

Harry shook his head. "And who said you only get the best brews from grimy old books?"

"I dunno, but whoever Blossom is, she's a bleeding genius."

Hermione had to tear herself away from her friends shortly after Robins finally came down from the girls' dormitories and settled on the sofa next to Bowman. The Head Girl was complaining of an Ancient Runes essay that she had to finish before supper, even if everyone knew she had at least another two days. She could have dragged Ron to the door with her if Harry had not had hold of his shoulder. The Boy-who-lived was starting to get a bit twitchy as the clock hand ticked closer to four, and yet they were still missing a Beater, the Beater's reserve, and the last Chaser.

"Harry, you look like you're ripe to crawl out of your skin," said Demelza.

"Just a little bit, Demelza. Just a little bit." Harry rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"What did you call this meeting for anyway?" asked Dean.

"Just wanted to go over a few things with you guys. You know, since we're a bit behind the other teams."

Seamus leaned forward in his seat. "They haven't got you worried, have they?"

"I don't know about worried, but definitely concerned," said Harry as he leaned up against the wall beside the fireplace. "Slytherin in particular has been troubling, from what I've found out. They're cooking something up, I can feel it."

"No kidding," said Ron. "Looks to me that they've gone back to their _intimidate-the-hell-out-of-the-enemy_ strategy. I mean, did you see their new Beater, that O'Rourke bloke?"

"The one that claims to be a Fourth year? He's huge!"

"Thanks Rose for such brilliant commentary."

"But look on the bright side, mate," Ron turned his head to Harry. "Malfoy's still Seeker, and he's got the enthusiasm of a limp noodle."

Rose let out a shrill burst of laughter. "I would beg to differ," she said. Rose had not forgotten about her encounter with the Slytherin outside Snape's classroom. That also was not the last time she clashed with Malfoy in some way. Rose got into more verbal squabbles with Pansy Parkinson than any other girl she knew. And as anyone who was anyone knew, where there was Parkinson, eventually there was Malfoy. Rose finally lifted her hands out of the now cooling cauldron. Large gobs of the gooey potion dripped from her finger tips, leaving their slimy trails. "Malfoy's just playing up that depressed, battle-worn victim act to throw people off. He'll fly up into the air during that match and _boom! _He's a whole new man!"

"Did Snape let that slip to you?" Ron smirked. Rose laughed with him. "Like Snape would rat out his pride and joy. Besides, he'd never let anything slip, and to me of all people." Rose had turned her attention to her messy hands, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the others. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"Yeah, he's too busy trying to come up with clever ideas to get under your skin still," said Dean. "Am I right?"

"Actually, there were a few nights when I wanted him to be snarky with me. It would have been more comfortable than him just sitting there and staring at me all night."

"Staring at you?" Demelza repeated, she and Bowman leaning closer toward the red-haired witch.

Rose began to gently peel off the layer of goo that had solidified on her skin. "I swear, that's what he does," she said. She sat down in her chair and leaned her elbow on the tabletop. She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips in a rather feminine take on the school's Potions master. "He just sits there, the whole time. Watches me like a damn hawk. Occasionally, he lets his eyes wander." Rose demonstrated Snape's lazy habit of gazing about the room, the ceiling in particular, getting a few giggles from her little audience. "Every so often, I'll get something like _"Beckett, could you scrub those desks any slower?" _or _"Beckett, you're a disgrace to Potioneers everywhere the way you treat those ingredients."_ Oh this one was lovely! _"It's peers like you that turn the First years into hopeless dunderheads every time I turn my back." _The story of my term so far."

"He goes from wanting to strangle you to just trying to creep you out?" Dean was shaking his head. "Oh man, Snape's going soft."

"How can you be sure?" said Parvati as she and Lavender passed through the common room, headed for the library. "It seems to me like he's ill or something. You know, like what they have been talking about in the halls?"

"Oh c'mon," said Ron, his words stretched with laughter. "That's the younger kids trying to make an excuse for Snape chewing their heads off and spitting them back at us. He does it anyway, just more ferociously. But who said that something had to be wrong with him for that to happen?"

"Actually, it does sort of make sense," said Harry. "Hermione has mentioned to me more than a few times that he's looked off color lately. And I hate to say it, but she may have a point."

Rose placed the lid on her cauldron before disposing of the scraps of dried potion that littered the table. "He's just in a rut. You can't blame him for that. Sooner or later, he'll have to go back to the way he was."

"Alright, now you're starting to scare me," said Ron. But Rose turned to him with a smug tweak in her smile. "I'm sure Hermione would back me up on that." Needless to say, the surrounding Gryffindors did not let that go quietly. Ron blushed, but he would not be bothered with trying to will himself invisible the way Hermione did. And luckily for him, the last few team members wandered in a few minutes later and all but collapsed onto the floor. Harry stood up straighter and was about to begin speaking when the portrait creaked open yet again. Neville walked in with a stumble in his step, dirt on his hands, and a goofy smile across his face.

"Hey lover boy!" crooned Dean. Some hid their giggles behind their hands while others decided to look away all together. Neville's face flushed a very deep fuchsia as he rung his soiled fingers. Was it that easy to tell when he had been with Luna back behind the greenhouses?

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he shyly said. "But I heard that the Quidditch team was up here. I was wondering if I could talk to Rose for a second."

"What's up, Neville?" Rose shouted from her little island.

"Lavender told me that you were making some skin-healing potion you found in _Witch Weekly._"

Rose pointed her thumb to the cauldron at the center of the table. "It's right here. It's still warm if you want some for your hands."

"Actually," Neville shocked them all by blushing an even deeper shade. "I just wanted to ask you if – and if it's not, that's alright – if it's safe to use that stuff for chapped lips."

Rose had seen a lot of things and heard a lot of statements that had passed through that room. But that one was certainly one she wouldn't have seen coming, and her poor divination skills had nothing to do with it. She had to fight to keep a straight face, using Harry as a distraction. He however had already lost his battle with the smirk. He was a terrific friend, but sometimes he was simply and utterly useless. Rose looked back to Neville, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Lavender. That stuff is very hot, and it tastes like molten rubber mixed with sun-block. I wouldn't recommend it. I say go find Professor Wicker, she's got lip-balm." Poor Longbottom found himself in a rather tame walk of shame as he passed the smiles and playful giggles.

**~HP~**

The truth be told, Rose would not have resented her nearly three long weeks of detention if she knew that she would not be so bothered by them in the end. With only one night left to go, the young witch couldn't help herself but to be puzzled, whether by her attitude towards Snape or by Snape's reaction to her. The last week had actually turned out to be something that could pass as pleasant to an unsuspecting eye. Rose had been brave enough to continue asking the Potions master about certain points that had been nagging at her in class or after she read about them. To her surprise, Snape would give her bits of information that suddenly made her questions make sense. Once or twice, he further elaborated on that day's lesson while she listened, silently taking it in. It didn't feel like her detention had become remedial tutoring. If anything, Snape was merely reinforcing her interest in the art of brewing. Her, a stubborn Gryffindor! Then again, these conversations were far better than Snape using her slightly superior attraction to Muggle Studies to accuse her of being an enthusiast.

Okay, so she might have been a bit of an enthusiast. But that was always the chance when you are raised by the average English Muggle, knowing nothing better than the life they gave you.

Rose was heading back up to Gryffindor Tower, late as she always was. She was a bit disappointed that she had finished swabbing the desks so quickly, as she and Snape had been in the middle of a fair discussion about the differences between the simple Cheering Charm, and the rather complex Antidepressant Draught. A little longer and she would have been able to compare them to Muggle medications, much to Snape's chagrin no doubt. That however was another debate for another day with another wizard.

The moonlight crept in through the massive windows and illuminated the dark halls. The quiet of the night brought a curious comfort to Rose she sauntered on her way. Every time she passed a window and caught a glimpse of that full orb imbedded in deep blue, she imagined that somewhere, the cry of a great wolf carried on the wind. The stillness that once was so horridly consuming was now quite peaceful. Rose felt odd to be walking alone. A night like that deserved to be enjoyed with someone, anyone. All she had to look forward to was shut doors and a sleeping roommate.

"Is that spearmint I taste?"

Rose stopped in her tracks, catching the voice bouncing off the walls. Here she thought she was the only one out way past curfew. She had only reached the first floor, and everything continued to give her the impression that she remained alone. Whoever spoke was nowhere around, the echo revealing the distance. She stood still and waited; with a statement like that, Rose could not just walk away without satisfying the urge to spy a little.

"Only for you," a second voice quietly resounded.

'_Wait a minute, I know those voices.' _Rose looked around and saw the arch to a small balcony. That could give her a good vantage point. She crept over and pressed herself to the wall. Then she looked down on the walled-in cloister below.

Two long shadows stretched the length of the courtyard to the place where Ron sat in the soft grass. Beside him, Hermione had her legs tucked under her body as she leaned close to him, playing with their fingers. Softly, she nuzzled into the young wizard's neck. Ron caressed her cheek with a sigh and brought their lips together. Rose watched the kiss from above, her sweet smile unseen. The pair came apart after a long moment. Ron tugged his girlfriend closer and let her lean against his broad shoulder.

"Have you ever seen a more perfect night, Mione?" he asked.

"I do believe I have," said Hermione. "They just weren't perfect until now." Another kiss.

"You haven't got a clue. I remember nights this beautiful during the summers back at home. The stars were out, the noise was gone, it couldn't get any better. But all I could think about was you, so far away." And another kiss. Rose's smile suddenly started to fade away.

Hermione giggled under her breath. "You are too much, and yet I love you all the same."

"I sure hope you do," said Ron. "What good is being in love with a know-it-all if you get nothing in return?" Rose could see Hermione's attempts to hold back the swat. The bushy-haired brunette was rewarded with yet another affectionate peck. Rose pushed herself further into the wall and gripped the ancient stone, quite unsettled by these private displays.

"We shouldn't be out here, you know," said Hermione, nearly a whisper. "It's nearly midnight, and here, anyone could see us."

A comment like that only served to make Rose even more uncomfortable. Now she was regretting this curious impulse. She wondered how this could possibly be worse than listening to Lavender's blathering, or catching Neville and Luna off guard. And yet it was. Understanding and supportive as she was, she felt like a bad friend to be spying on their relationship and feeling the cold touch of envy.

"Oh, who fucking cares if someone sees us? It's not like we're naked here in the grass." Ron raised his fair eyebrows in emphasis.

"I know, but we're still out way too late, and –,"

"Mione, if you were that worried about getting in trouble, then we'd simply be hiding somewhere else. Am I right?"

Hermione blushed in spite of herself. "I suppose. But Rose should be getting back soon, if she's not already there."

"Let her think what she wants," said Ron. "It doesn't really matter to us."

"She's still my friend."

"And mine as well. I'll give her something, she's a nice girl, but she's not shy. Let's just assume that whatever pops into her head will only be heard by us and Harry."

'_You two have no idea how adorable you really are. Or just how lucky you are to have each other. If only more people could find love like that.' _They were words that Rose had said to herself over and over again, and kissed up to God with a heavy mind. Deep down, she hoped that the couple could sense her growing trouble.

"I don't see why we have to hide something that is just so real." Ron massaged Hermione's scalp. "You know, for once I want to follow Lavender's example. Hermione, I love you. I just want to run through the castle proclaiming it at the top of my lungs. Hell, half of Gryffindor is waiting for me to."

Hermione shrugged. "I just want us to be private."

"Yes, I know. But how easy is ignoring the elephant in the common room?"

"Give me some time, will you?" asked Hermione, a soft plead.

"We've had more than enough time," said Ron as he looked up at the sky. "This gorgeous night could be the start of the rest of our life together. We have the whole world in the palm of our hands. With freedom like that, it's so much easier to just let yourself go." Hermione leaned up to kiss Ron's neck repeatedly, tickling him as she got closer to his ear. Ron tried to muffle his chuckle.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Well, it's just you and me," Hermione crooned.

"Really? I was unaware that there was anyone else in the castle," said Ron playfully. He held her close in his strong arms. "As far as I'm concerned, you and I are Hogwarts tonight. No, we're Britain!"

Hermione did not even try to fight off the grin stretching across her moonlit face. "You charmer, you are trying too hard!" Ron seemed to already have an ideal response on the tip of his tongue. "Just say you love me and I'll call it a draw." Hermione chose to say this not with words, but with a deep kiss that tackled Ron backwards to the ground.

Rose pushed herself from the wall and stepped back into the darkness of the corridor. She had seen quite enough. Trying to ignore what felt like a stone in the pit of her stomach, she slinked off down the hall toward the stairs. The whole way to bed, she cursed herself for such resentment towards two people she so deeply cared about. But Rose had to be honest with herself. And the truth hurt as much as the denial. How could she not end up upset with Hermione and Ron when they had something she wanted so badly?

**~HP~**

_**That's right I'm a proud Romione shipper, and I write them unashamedly. **_

_**Reviews are welcome!**_


	12. The truth comes out

**_Alright readers, big chapter now, the first of many. It took me ages and far too many drafts to get to this point, and I really hope it doesn't disappoint._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Severus swept through the halls, robes billowing behind him. He sighed at the effort to maintain his age old, student-repelling stalk. His stomach was churning again; that morning's porcelain worship had been particularly violent. So violent that it was almost incredible that he had managed to leave his chambers. But Severus couldn't quite tell if this was out of sheer nausea or growing anxiety. He swallowed hard, his mouth salivating as he closed in on the hospital wing.

After nearly three weeks of trying and failing to cope, Severus had finally had enough. He was tired of waking up and vomiting before thinking to do anything else. He hated the crippling exhaustion that rendered him just about useless in the evening. And recently, the dizziness he had mentioned to Minerva was beginning to get worse. He had already had a close call that forced him to dismiss his class of Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Fourth years. He had resigned to the fact that doing so only provided more fodder for the whispers in the common rooms. But Severus could not bring himself to care about the students talking behind his back. For once, he was too concerned for his own wellbeing, and he should have been after a month of listening to the staff's incessant clucking. If anything, he was going to see Poppy to shut them up. Even Rose Beckett had chosen to end her stint of detentions with a little check on his health. Though she was a great deal more tolerable, her concerns were quite disconcerting.

Severus was filled with a sense of dread as he approached the third floor. He should have had no worries about seeing the school's Mediwitch; she had helped to get him through many rough Death Eater meetings and times when he ended up on the wrong end of Lord Voldemort's wand. Not to mention that this was the same woman who was partly responsible for saving his life. But Severus knew well how she worked. She didn't ask too many questions until she was truly stumped. Then she would do everything short of poking and prodding in search of a diagnosis. The last thing that Severus needed was for her to bring up that "little scuffle" from August that caused them both so much trouble. He had done his best to push the rape out of the forefront of his thoughts, his small attempt to take his life back. He could not let that take control once again.

**~HP~**

Poppy Pomfrey walked up and down the rows of empty beds, smoothing out the covers and fluffing up the pillows. It was as though she was expecting one or two of them to be filled by nightfall. It was still early in the day after all. She barely flinched when the door was pushed open and Severus walked in, glancing up when he cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"Severus," she curtly said, as though surprised.

"Poppy," said Severus, the answer just as short. Already, the old nurse was staring into two coal black slits for eyes. If Severus still thought that he could intimidate her, he was in for quite a surprise. As foreboding as he could be, Poppy would not be shaken up by a man she had known since he was a boy. "What brings you up here this morning?"

Severus looked up and down at each bed, making sure that they were alone in the hospital. Only then did he seem to drop whatever act he was trying to put up, visibly wilting before Poppy. "As much as it pains me to say this, I need your help," he half said, half sighed.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm sure that you have heard the rumors that I have been ill recently?"

Poppy looked up from what she was doing, a curious arch in her brow. "You are not here to tell me that they are true, are you?"

"Regretfully, I am," Severus reluctantly admitted. "Yes… yes, they are."

Poppy took a minute to get a good look the Potions master. Indeed, Severus did look far paler than she was accustomed to, and his face held a faint greenish hue. Her gaze traveled down his body; his robes were ill-fitted as though he had lost some weight. Back up again and she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Had he lost sleep as well? It seemed that the students had reason to gossip after all.

"Come with me," she said as she motioned for Severus to follow. She led him to one of the private rooms at the far end of the wing. The midmorning sun poured in through the windows across the floor and the full bed. Across the room were a sink and a set of cupboards, and beside the door was a small empty table. Severus quickly realized that it was the same room where he had spent his post-battle recovery time. Bloody terrific, he thought.

Poppy urged Severus to sit down on the bed as she closed the door behind them. She then summoned his medical records, pulled up a chair to the bedside, and looked at Severus as she sat down. "Now Severus," she began. "If you could please tell me your symptoms."

Severus tried to maintain eye contact. "In the early mornings, I feel incredibly nauseous. By the time I usually rise, I'm being sick. It usually lets up by noontime, but then for the rest of the day, I'm almost completely exhausted."

"How often are you sick? And how severe is the nausea?"

"It depends on the day?"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Poppy, slightly confused.

"Some days, I vomit once and then I'm fine. Others, I hardly have the strength to get off the bathroom floor. Others still, I'm alright until classes begin, and then it comes back with a vengeance."

Poppy silently took in the words, her concern growing. "How long has this been happening?"

"Two…three weeks?"

Inside her head, Poppy was screaming. What on earth would possess Severus to put this off for that long? However, she managed to keep her composure as she looked over the Potions master. He looked so very peaky, and he put his hand to his head as though he had a terrible headache. "How do you feel right now?" she asked.

"I still feel a bit ill."

'_And you look every bit of it,' _Poppy thought to herself. "Have you felt lightheaded at all?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, a few times and with no cause."

"Anything else unusual?"

"Um…" Severus flushed a light pink, embarrassment bringing color to his face. "I've found that I've had to urinate more often than I used to, and…my chest seems to be more sensitive."

"How so?" asked Poppy.

"Like it bloody fucking hurt to wear robes a few days ago."

Poppy nodded firmly; she did not need further explanation. She wrinkled her eyebrows as she reviewed the information she had gathered in her head. There was something oddly familiar about these symptoms. The way that Severus was talking, one would have thought that he was… No! It was impossible! Alright, maybe it wasn't impossible. But it was still incredibly rare, and it had not happened in centuries. It couldn't be…could it? Poppy swallowed.

"What?" asked Severus.

"I have an idea of what might be ailing you," Poppy said as she stood up and turned away. _'And I really hope that I'm wrong.'_

Poppy left the room and made her way into her spacious office at the edge of the wing. She grabbed a small bottle filled to the brim with a clear potion from a drawer, along with a second, milkier potion bottle and a small beaker. She also summoned a needle from across the room. She walked back into the small, private room with the equipment in her hands. She set it all down on the table by the door. She slowly poured the water-like brew into the glass, prepared the syringe, and then turned back to Severus. Poppy didn't need to say a single word to the Potions master. Severus unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his left sleeve. He then looked back to the Mediwitch who, ignoring the scar where his Dark Mark used to be, walked over to the bed. Once she had found the vein in Severus's elbow, Poppy shot a quick glance to him. He looked away from what she was doing. It wasn't that needles bothered Severus, oh no sir! It was just that somehow, Severus deemed it respectful to Poppy if he remained completely passive. And these days, the more respect he got from his colleagues and likewise, the better. Severus didn't so much as flinch as Poppy breached his pale flesh.

After collecting a fair amount of blood, Poppy carefully removed the needle and quickly patched up the tiny wound. She walked over to the table and emptied some of the blood into the clear solution, beginning to stir. Severus could hear her quietly muttering some incantation. Poppy stopped stirring and let the mixture swirl. The cloudiness of the blood disappeared and the mixture turned a pale pink. And then Poppy carefully added a single drop of the second potion.

The mixture turned bright blue.

Poppy had to stop herself from gasping. Hastily, though not enough to alert Severus, she conjured up a second set of beakers, and she ran the test again. She got the same result. This couldn't be! Trying to contain the fret, she turned to look at Severus.

"Well?" he asked.

"Um… Severus," said Poppy, trying to hide her obvious shock. "Would you lie down for a moment, please?"

Poppy pulled out her wand as Severus lay back on the bed, a rightfully puzzled look on his face. "Remove your robes," she demanded. Severus unbuttoned his frock coat, then the crisp white shirt underneath. Poppy pointed her wand at his abdomen and silently cast a spell. A mist appeared above Snape's body and as the moments wore on, it took on a golden shine. Poppy's eyes widened in her own disbelief. There was no mistake, both tests were accurate. There was no way she was wrong.

Professor Severus Snape was pregnant.

"What is it?" asked Severus. "What's wrong?" He sat on the edge of the bed after he finished buttoning up his shirt and started on his waistcoat. Poppy was forced to search her mind for the right words. "Well…I do know what it is." She sat down in her chair by the bed.

"And?"

"Severus, I'm not sure how to tell you this –,"

"I'm dying, aren't I?" Severus cut her off.

"Severus…"

"I understand, Poppy. Years of spell exposure and curses are finally having an impact on my health."

"Severus…no, you are not dying," Poppy explained. _'Although you will wish you were after I say this.' _She pulled the chair closer and rested her hand on the wizard's. "You are far from dying, actually. As I said, I don't know exactly how to tell you this if not bluntly. And I warn you, this may come as a shock. The reason for your unusual symptoms is that…it's because you are pregnant."

The look on Severus's face was almost indescribable. It was a look of utter shock in the midst of complete confusion. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open slightly. "What?"

"You're pregnant," Poppy repeated. "You're going to have a baby."

Severus shook his head as his eyes traveled down to his flat midsection. "You have got to be joking." The familiar growl crept into his voice.

Poppy's tone of voice turned serious and defensive against the Potions master's attempts to threaten her. "I'm not joking, Severus. Why would I joke with you about something like this?" Poppy vaguely wondered why she would joke with Severus at all.

"But Poppy, I'm not some kind of idiot," Severus snarled. "I am a man. There is no way that I could be pregnant!"

"Well, the condition is very rare, but there are ways in which a wizard can come to be with child. And according to the two different pregnancy tests that I performed on you, you are."

"Your tests are wrong!"

"Both of my tests are accurate, Severus. There was only a small fraction of a chance that the potion test could have been wrong, and therefore, I performed the detection charm for good measure. The results of both were very positive."

"Then perform them again!" Severus snapped at the Mediwitch. "There has to be some kind of mistake!"

"I already ran the potion test twice with the same result, but if you insist."

Poppy then performed both tests for a second and third time in Severus's full view, explaining both as she went along. Again, both came out positive, clear as day. Severus's face seemed to show his slowly increasing panic, until it looked as though he was about to be sick. His face paled as he pressed a hand to his forehead. He gripped the sheets with his other hand.

"Severus, are you alright?" asked Poppy. But before Severus could answer, his stomach violently turned. He ran to the closest thing he could get to, that being the sink in the corner. He felt Poppy come up behind him. She carefully reached around him and turned on the faucet. Ever so gently, she rubbed his back as he heaved over the sink. A little less than a minute later, the vomiting ceased. Severus rested his forehead on the brim of the sink, moaning miserably.

"_Accio glass!"_ Poppy commanded. Once it was in her hand, Poppy held the glass under the cold running water. She then placed her hand on Severus's shoulder, encouraging him to drink. After Severus had a few sips, Poppy slowly guided him back to the bed. Severus lay down and rested for a moment. Poppy set the glass of water down on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed. She watched the younger wizard as emotion slowly took over his chilly exterior. His breathing was deep and shaky as he shook his head to himself, his eyes clamped shut. She touched his leg.

"Something tells me that congratulations are not in order," she said quietly. Severus briefly glanced at her, but then turned his head away again. "This can't really be happening," he said. "This just can't happen."

Poppy was almost at a loss for words. "Not naturally, but we do live in a magical world. Judging from your reaction, I don't believe it would be right to assume that you yourself caused this."

"You thought right." Severus almost choked on his own words.

Poppy let Severus calm down for a little while. She gently ran her hand up and down his thigh, trying to provide a small form of comfort. In the meantime, she began searching her long memory for any kind of explanation. Though male pregnancy was possible in the Wizarding world, it was such a rare occurrence that any known cases had long since been forgotten. The magic involved was vague and mostly unexplored. There were a massive number of questions and theories flying through Poppy's mind. But for now, the best she could do was to get as much information from Severus as she could.

"Severus, I need you to be completely honest with me." Severus glared at her, but Poppy stood her ground. "Don't you dare lie to me, Snape. This is important."

Severus sighed. "Very well."

"Were you involved with someone within the last three months?"

Severus scowled as he sat up in bed. "My personal matters are none of your business. Why should I tell you?"

"Because," Poppy began. "I'm trying to figure out how something like this _could_ happen?"

"Brilliant, Poppy!" exclaimed Severus. "We'll be here all night."

"Not so fast. We don't have to be if you just listen to what I have to say, swallow your pride, and talk to me."

Severus tried to growl, but found his throat to still be too raw. Instead, his hand came up to wipe his face. "Do you have any theories as to how this happened?" he asked.

"I do," Poppy answered. "But as I already said, you have got to be completely honest with me. If you just sit there and tell me to bugger off, we _will_ be here all night." Severus's face spelled reluctant surrender. Poppy nodded. "Well then, I don't know exactly what caused you to conceive –,"

"Poppy," Severus interrupted. "Be honest. Did you even have the slightest clue that wizards could get pregnant in the first place?"

"I remember joking with friends about it when I was training at St. Mungo's, and I may have heard a rumor or two along the way, but it was never serious."

"How can I be sure that you are telling the truth?" asked Severus. "You obviously knew to perform a pregnancy test."

"It just struck me as odd. The symptoms you described were identical to those that most women experience in early pregnancy. I just couldn't help but wonder. Those rumors had to come from somewhere after all."

"Indeed," Severus looked away from Poppy. From years of treating teenagers who didn't want to give out too much information, Poppy could tell that Severus was acting just as so. A certain look in the man's eyes made Poppy think that he was mortified. And there wasn't much reason to blame him.

She fell deep into thought, paging through the folder that contained Severus's medicinal information. She came across some of the most recent documents. When Poppy subsequently treated Severus after the great battle, she discovered that his body showed evidence of having been heavily cursed. While she could tell that the spell was Dark magic, most likely the work of You-know-who himself, she was unable to determine the spell or its nature. Seeing that it didn't leave any immediate damage, she figured that it wasn't much to worry about. But male pregnancy had its roots in spell-work, and the effects were not always obvious. As she sat there rereading, a disturbing thought came to her.

She put her hand on Snape's shoulder. "Tell me, Severus. Do you think that this could have something to do with You-know-who?"

Severus sighed, shifting so that he sat on the edge of the bed beside Poppy. "More than likely," he grudgingly admitted. Poppy pulled out his documents from May and held them so that Severus could see. "When I treated you back in May, the other healers and I discovered that your body had been exposed to some Dark magic. Were you cursed by anyone the night before in the Shrieking Shack?" Severus just nodded.

"Was it You-know-who who cursed you?" Poppy asked this in a hushed voice as though it was still a bad idea to talk about the Dark Lord, especially with Severus. Again, Severus just nodded. "Can you tell me what happened in those last few hours?"

Severus still didn't look at Poppy. Instead, he stared down at the floor. "The Dark Lord didn't curse me for any particular reason. At least I don't think he did. To me, it just seemed like he was bored. As far as he was concerned, he had already won the war. I was there, so he took advantage of it…" He paused, his voice suddenly dropping down until it was nearly a whisper. To Poppy, he sounded wounded, almost timid. "Now that I think of it, he may have been trying to weaken me down so I could die faster." He paused again.

"What did he do to you?" asked Poppy, suddenly producing a quill and a sheet of parchment.

"He cruciated me…three times. But while I was still down on the floor, the Dark Lord cast another spell on me."

"Do you remember what he said when he cast the spell?"

"No, it was nonverbal. I couldn't even hear him breathing. I only remember a violet light shooting from his wand and hitting me in the stomach."

"How did you feel afterward?"

"All I felt was a sharp pain deep in my pelvis. That's it."

"Alright," said Poppy, quickly writing down Severus's words. "Are you sure you don't remember You-know-who saying anything?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Severus nodded.

"Now, Severus," Poppy blushed as the Potions master finally glanced up at her, suddenly hesitating. "I know that you know just as well as I do what it usually takes to make a baby." Severus looked away, some color also creeping back into his face. "Have you been intimate with anyone since that night?" Severus turned his head. The look in Severus's eyes was not unlike that of a shy teenage boy. It was a look that Poppy was quite familiar with, yet it was so out of character for Snape. A thought suddenly came to her.

"Severus…have you been intimate with anyone _at all_?" she raised her eyebrows slightly. Severus's face turned beet red and his hand came up to rub his eyes. Then he slowly shook his head. "No," he whispered. "I haven't."

For the first time that morning, the Potions master locked eyes with the Mediwitch. In those deep, black eyes, there was honesty, but there was also suppression. Either way, Poppy was still confused. Either Severus was a virgin or he wasn't. And given that sexual activity was always required to achieve a male pregnancy, the Mediwitch was more inclined to believe that Severus was lying. But Poppy did not sense deceit, and that meant that it came down to Severus's definitions of intimacy. He might not have known the real power of romantic love, but sex was a primal act, and feeling was not always necessary for it to happen. That was when Poppy turned back down to the papers in her lap, and the last pages caught her attention.

Suddenly it all came rushing back to her. The one possibility that she might have always known, but dismissed for the sake of a friend.

She recalled that warm August night, when Dumbledore came running into her office, huffing and puffing about how Severus was hurt on the floor of his office. Poppy was accustomed to the sight of an injured Severus after all those years of Death Eater spying, but even she was shocked by the condition the younger wizard was in when she saw him, battered and bloodied and bruised. The Mediwitch could barely imagine what had happened, except that it was grotesquely violent. But the one thing Poppy found most puzzling was that when she went to survey the extent of the damage, Severus refused to remove any of his clothing. He barely even wanted to be physically touched! Refusing to leave her job unfinished, Poppy ended up giving Severus a doozy of a Sleeping Draught, and then waited for him to fall asleep before finally getting a look at his wounds.

But Poppy wished she had never done that, not after she saw what Severus's robes hid below the waist. She was sickened at the very sight; she had seen these injuries before, but not on any man she had treated. Poppy knew what had really happened to Severus that night, and she felt anger unlike any she had felt in years. How could anyone think they could get away with such violence?

But against her better judgment, as well as a good part of her training, she kept the information to herself. Severus had shown no indication of wanting to reveal the depth of his assault, and she was not going to push him. If such an occasion arose that it began to affect his wellbeing, she would aid him in getting proper treatment. Now, that time had come, and all Poppy knew was that for clarity's sake, she had to get this information out of him. But she had to be careful. If Severus truly did consider himself a virgin, she didn't want to humiliate him any more than she already had.

"I don't mean to call you a liar," she said. "But even in these unusual circumstances, conception can only happen after sexual activity. You might not have been involved with someone, but perhaps there was a time when you were…reluctant."

Instantly, the walls went up around Severus with a snarl. He was not naïve in the slightest; he knew damn well what she meant. Severus suddenly shifted his body so that his back was to her. "What are you playing at?" he growled. Poppy's own features hardened, and she grabbed hold of the wizard's wrist.

"I cannot find the spell that did this without information, nor the method of conception. Whatever you can tell me will help me to treat you." Poppy leaned closer to Severus's ear, and she whispered, "This can just stay between us for now. It's alright to tell me, Severus. Did something happen to you that you didn't tell us about?"

Severus didn't turn back to face Poppy. He just kept his head turned. Then he spoke in his low voice. "I can't tell you."

Poppy frowned, her eyebrows wrinkling in concern. "Why not?"

"I have my reasons. But I just can't tell you right now."

Poppy wished that she had a clearer view of the Potions master's face. But the mere fact that Severus couldn't talk to her all but confirmed her suspicions. For the time being, Poppy decided that it was a better idea to not press the subject. If Severus wasn't comfortable with confiding in her, she had to respect that. The only trouble was that he could be withholding valuable information that she needed, like the date of conception. Without that, she couldn't tell him exactly how many weeks into his pregnancy he was or when his due date could be.

"Can you at least tell me how far along you think you are?" she asked, now trying to work around the issue.

Severus slowly nodded, still not facing her. "Two months…I presume." He sounded downright humiliated now. It was also just what Poppy guessed would be the case. Now she had something to work with. But before she could begin, she had to get one very, very important question out of the way.

"Alright dear, I don't want to overwhelm you. But what do you intend to do about this pregnancy? You do know that you have options."

Severus finally turned back to her, blank faced. "I don't know," he said, no detectable emotion in his deep voice. "I just don't know." He looked dead serious, amidst what Poppy saw as obvious fear. She nodded. "Very well, I'm not asking for you to make your choice this very moment. And I can't sway your decision." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "But no matter what you decide, you have to tell Albus as soon as possible."

Severus groaned as he stood up. "That meddlesome old fool will probably demand that I don't do a thing about it."

"You might be surprised. Albus can be terrifically supportive in times like this. But he is the headmaster, and the headmaster must know about certain things concerning his teachers."

To Poppy's surprise, Severus did not put up a fight. By that point, he just looked thoroughly defeated and exhausted. "I'll tell him this afternoon," he quietly said, unconsciously tugging at his robes. Poppy acknowledged him with a nod and a small smile and Severus turned to leave. Poppy stood up, tucking his records under her arm. "I hope you know that we will do what we can to help you." But Severus didn't respond. He just walked out of the room, and out of the hospital wing, trying to maintain the stride he was so known for.

**~HP~**

It was closer to the evening when Severus worked up the courage to face the headmaster. But even as he slowly walked up to Dumbledore's office, he felt sick with dread as to what he had to do. It was more than enough for him to be told that he was suffering from something as unthinkable as a pregnancy. He had already spent much of the day trying to recover from such a shock. But now he had to subject himself to the humiliation of informing Dumbledore himself. He had to face the shame of admitting his condition.

How could this have happened? Of all things that could have made his life more unbearable, why did it have to be this? Just when he thought he had moved passed that horrendous attack, it had to turn out to be far worse than he could have ever imagined. Now he had to surrender to the idea that Dumbledore could somehow make it all better? What were the bloody chances that he had heard of something like male pregnancy? Poppy had only known it as the joke it always was. Who was to say that this was common enough knowledge that the wise old headmaster would take it seriously? Severus felt more like he was about to be strapped into the stocks and mocked, rather than simply informing Dumbledore of a personal problem.

He ignored the stares of passing students the whole way up from the dungeons. Those prying eyes did nothing but help build up his quiet panic; it was as though he was under a magnifying glass. He rounded the corner and approached the gargoyle that hid those winding steps. He glanced around to be sure of his solitude before uttering the password. He fought to keep his breathing low and calm.

Dumbledore was drowning in paperwork behind his desk when the door creaked open and Severus stepped into his office. He looked up from his work and, noticing the Potions master, he set his quill down in its purple well. "Severus!" he said, smiling warmly. "A pleasant surprise! How are you, my boy?"

"I could be better, Headmaster," said Severus, trying to avoid eye contact with the older wizard. He uncomfortably tugged his robes.

"How many times, Severus? It is perfectly alright to call me Albus."

"It's a force of habit, sir." Severus sat down in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. The elderly headmaster held forth a glass bowl. "Lemon drop?" Severus just shook his head. Albus set the bowl down again and pushed away the rolls of parchment in front of him. "Now, what brings you here this fine evening?"

Severus was quiet, trying to find words to start. "My…my health."

"Ah yes," Albus nodded. "Minerva did mention to me that you went to see Poppy this morning."

"That is true."

"And was she able to determine what is ailing you?"

"She was…" Severus's face fell as he gripped his knee to stop his hand from shaking. Albus immediately saw that the pale wizard was upset, and blue eyes widened behind his glasses.

"Oh dear! How serious is your illness?"

"I don't know if you could call it an illness, but it's pretty big." Severus groaned when images of himself at nine months pregnant suddenly flooded his mind. That only added to his already incredible fear and shame. It was amazing that he could breathe with the tension building up in his chest, a tension that was slowly inching up into his throat.

"Then what is it?"

That was when Severus suddenly lost his tight control over his emotions and let a single tear fall down his face. Swiftly, Dumbledore got up and walked around the desk. He bent over and placed a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder. "It's alright, Severus. Everything is going to be fine. Now, how ill are you?"

"I'm not ill, Albus," said Severus, quietly. "I'm pregnant."

Severus cringed and waited for the laughter. But it never came. Instead, another gentle hand cupped his cheek and brought his face up to meet the headmaster's twinkling eyes. "Oh, my boy! Is that it? I don't know why that didn't cross my mind. Are you absolutely sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Severus growled. "Poppy ran those tests three times…wait a minute. You're not shocked by this?!"

"Oh no Severus, I have had knowledge of wizards becoming pregnant in the past."

"Merlin, Albus! You know everything!"

"It certainly would appear that way, wouldn't it?" said Albus, taking a chance on some light humor. "Trust me, my boy, I don't know _everything._"

Severus took several deep, quivering breaths, desperately trying to pull himself together. He also wiped away his tears. It was bad enough to be in this situation, but to cry in front of the headmaster was just humiliating. Sure, he had done it before, but that was nearly twenty years ago. "There there, Severus," Albus comforted. "It could have been far worse. If you ask me, this is wonderful news." Severus just shook his head as he finally got a hold of himself. Once he was sure that Severus was calm, Albus walked back behind his desk and sat down.

"Now, how far along are you?" he asked.

"Around two months, give or take a few weeks," Severus answered, still not looking at the old professor.

"Ah, so you believe the child was conceived in August?"

"It would seem so." The two men were quiet for a moment, and then Severus spoke again. "Well…aren't you going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Aren't you going to ask me who the other father is?"

"Well, seeing how distressed you are tells me that no matter who he is, this is not a welcome pregnancy." Severus nodded at that. "But if you're not ready to tell me who he is, that is perfectly fine."

"It isn't that, Albus."

Dumbledore leaned his back onto his chair and did what he did best. He thought, running his fingers through the length of his beard. "Would it have anything to do with how this child was conceived?" Severus merely stared into the fire. "Do you mind my asking? I don't mean to invade your private life." The younger wizard shook his head, closing his eyes as he did so.

Albus spoke again. "What do you think it was that caused this?"

"Poppy believes that I have been cursed by the Dark lord." Snape's answer made Dumbledore's eyes go wide. "But she doesn't believe him to be the father. If this curse had impregnated me on the spot, I would have been getting sick in Azkaban."

The headmaster nodded. That was a good point. "Precisely. You are not currently seeing anyone, right?"

"No sir, I'm still single. I have been for far too long."

"Am I correct to say that your fancy is still for women?" Dumbledore asked this question delicately as the look on Severus's face suggested that this was still a sore subject.

"Yes sir," Severus's voice was soft and vulnerable.

"Has this changed at any time?"

Severus was suspicious as he listened to Albus. Where was he going with this? He put up his guard. "No, I'm as straight as I ever have been. Why must you ask?"

"I was merely suggesting that in past cases of male pregnancy, however few there are, said male had used either a spell or potion in order to conceive with another wizard." Severus flinched at Dumbledore's words, a reaction that the headmaster noticed right away. "I was merely asking you if you have had any encounters with a man in recent months, perhaps around the height of the summer"

Severus turned to Albus, a look of violation and annoyance gracing his face. Why did he even bother with Dumbledore? Thinking back to his state of mind after the rape, Severus cursed himself for being far too distraught for his Occlumency to be of any use. Dumbledore obviously already knew that something else happened in Knockturn Alley and that his attacker did more than just knock him around. And just when he thought a secret could stay as such!

Albus continued. "Did you discuss this with Poppy?"

"No…" Severus half-lied. The tone in his voice was somewhere between his usual defense and just plain embarrassment. But neither could hide how hesitant Severus was to open up fully.

"You know that it is just me here." This was said with a certain bark, and Severus noticed the past headmasters jump and shuffle out of their portraits. Satisfied, Albus continued. "I will keep this secret safe, if that is what you want."

'_Damn it! The man never lies!' _Severus thought. But somehow, there was something about Albus that spoke to him, telling him that it was safe for him to know it all.

"Tell me, Severus. What happened?" Albus relaxed into his chair, as though he was ready to listen to a long tale. There was no use in fighting with Dumbledore. If the old man ever wanted to know something, he found ways of finding out. Some could even say that Severus was a living example of this fact. But even so, he was also true to his word. Sighing heavily, Severus surrendered to ultimate defeat.

So Severus told Albus the true story of the twelfth night of August. He told him everything he could recall, from his attacker's brutality, to the act itself, to the menacing threats woven between them. With every flustered word, quiet pause, and rattled breath, Albus's face became longer and longer. His face was a mask of sympathy and disgusted horror. He went from leaning into his chair to hunching over his desk. Once Severus was finished with what he had to say, there was a silence that created an uncomfortable density in the room. Even Fawkes was stunningly quiet upon his perch.

"Oh, Severus!" Albus's voice sounded as though he had been punched in the chest. "Why didn't you say something to us then?"

"To tell you the truth, Albus, I really don't know. I didn't have much ability to think." Maybe because of humiliation? Privacy? Or perhaps shock? Even now, Severus could not differentiate between the three.

"I don't blame you! That's just awful! No one deserves anything like that." Severus was looking away again. Albus continued, "And to think why he did that, it's despicable. Severus, my dear boy, I am so sorry."

The distressed wizard before Albus had absolutely nothing to say. The headmaster stood from his chair and began to pace about the room. Fawkes watched him travel across the floor. "We know this man to be a Death Eater?"

Severus shook his head. "He could have been a Death Eater, he could have been an outside supporter." His voice got hoarser as he got more and more upset with every word. "Either way, I couldn't tell. He kept his face concealed and his voice down. And he was probably using spells to hide them both."

"He knew what he was doing," Albus nodded. "And it doesn't take a genius to see that he had a clear motive." The old wizard again ran his fingers down his beard, deep in thought. "Severus, are you sure that you don't have a clear idea about this man's identity?"

Severus, his eyes now glued to the floor, slowly nodded. In his view, he was now in his own personal hell. He was humiliated by having to tell the headmaster such a tale, ashamed that he was left so traumatized that he couldn't even form a remote idea about who his attacker was. And to top it all off, the reality of his pregnancy was beginning to sink in. He leaned in on himself, cradling his head in his hands. The stress and tension was making him feel like his head was to explode at any moment. He felt Albus cross the floor and place a hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright, my boy."

"No, it's not!" Severus's voice cracked with suppressed emotion. "This is horrible. Don't talk to me like it's not, old man!" He breathed hard, desperately trying to control himself. Albus's touch was a comforting grip. And it was under this touch that Severus just lost it. He wept into his hands as Albus gently rubbed his upper back.

"I know, Severus. This is all too much."

Severus looked up with wet, red eyes. "I don't know what to do, Albus. Oh God, what the hell am I going to do?!"

Albus waved his hand through the air. There was a scratching 'thud' as a second chair appeared across from Severus. Albus settled himself down, facing the distressed wizard. "Not to fret, Severus. We will sort everything out. Right now, the first and most important thing is your wellbeing. Do you know what you are going to do about your pregnancy?" Severus shook his head, still quite distraught. Albus decided to help him out a bit.

"I trust that Poppy has informed you of your options. You know that it's only a matter of taking a potion and doing so as soon as possible." Albus didn't mean a thing in saying that, taking a huge risk with such a suggestion. Apparently, it paid off. Severus looked at him, shock in his onyx eyes.

"You are suggesting that I terminate the pregnancy?"

"It is an option, Severus. While I personally don't agree with it, it's still your decision."

Severus shook his head, as though refusing to believe it was Albus Dumbledore giving him the choice. "No…I can't do that. I can't kill the child."

Albus left it at that. "Alright, so you intend to keep the child?"

"Well, I…it's just that…I haven't…I don't know."

Again, Albus took it upon himself to help Severus make up his mind. "Let me ask you this. Did you ever see yourself becoming a father?" Severus nodded. "Do you still wish to be a father?"

Severus was quiet for nearly a full minute before he said, almost in a whisper, "Yes."

"Then I see no reason for you not to keep this child."

"But Albus, I've been through far too much in the last twenty years. For Merlin's sake, I could have been dead a mere six months ago. How can I have a baby when I'm still trying to restart my life?"

"I believe that the answer is in the question. I understand the pressure and strain that you've been made to live with these long years. I'm sorry for all of it. But it's all over now. You have the freedom to do what you will. If ask me, this is a very good time for you to start a family."

"How do I know if I'm ready to be a parent? How do I know if I'll be a good father?" Severus's voice was uncharacteristically small and timid.

"Only time will tell, Severus. But I believe that you have all the potential in the world to be an excellent father, if your students are anything to go by." Albus noticed Severus's face twist at the mention of the students. "Did I say something?"

"Albus, I can't let the students find out. It's humiliating enough for you and Poppy to know. But if a stupid child finds out and tells the first person who will listen…oh Merlin…I'll be the laughing stock of the Wizarding world!" Severus leaned in on himself and buried his face in his hands.

"Now Severus –,"

"Be realistic, Albus," Severus barked. "When was the last time a wizard bore a child?"

Albus thought for a moment. "Around four hundred years ago."

"Exactly. They are gossiping to criminal extent as it is. But most of them are not so stupid. Do you honestly believe that something like me – _me_ – being pregnant could go unnoticed?"

"Not unless we want it to," said Albus, wagging a finger at thin air. "I see your point, and I agree. I also believe that it will be safer for you to keep your pregnancy a secret." Severus looked at the headmaster, seeking an explanation. "Your attacker's threats disturb me greatly."

"I'm perfectly capable of defending myself," Severus sneered.

"I know you are, but you might not be as your condition advances. As much as I want to help support you, I also want to protect you, you and the child."

Severus reluctantly nodded. Though he would never admit it aloud, it was a comfort to know that he still had the security that Dumbledore always offered. "So what did you have in mind?"

"We keep your condition a secret, using whatever means to accomplish that, and only a very small number of people will know about it. Trust me, no students will know about this. We'll let them think what they want, but they won't know the truth."

"This small number of people, who did you mean?" asked Severus, sitting up again.

"Only people that will be of the most use to you," Albus reassured. But before he could continue, Severus stopped him with a motion of his hand.

"Who _exactly _did you have in mind?"

Albus sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I believe that as my deputy, Minerva has the right to know." Severus nodded in agreement as Albus continued. "Pomona and Filius should also be notified. Both of them could potentially help you in coming months – that is, if you need it."

Again, Severus reluctantly nodded. Albus sat up straighter, knowing in the back his mind that he was going have to fiercely defend his last suggestion. This was Severus after all. "And I feel that it would also be a good idea to let Remus know."

Severus's head jerked up at that. "Lupin?! Why Lupin?!" he growled.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't think that this is any of his damn business. He has no bearing on this situation whatsoever, and he won't be of any use at all."

"On the contrary, Severus, I think that Remus could prove to be very handy. He's the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, therefore giving us the upper hand in keeping you safe. And quite frankly, Remus is a father."

"Hardly, his son is being raised by his mother-in-law."

"Only partly, and it's for the little one's own good. But I've seen Remus with his son, and he is a fantastic father if I do say so myself. I like to believe that in time, he can give you help and advice with the baby."

Severus remained silent, disregarding the opportunity for some snide comment. "I will tell them myself," said Albus. "I don't want you to worry too much." Severus wilted back, his face long and his red streaked eyes looking nothing short of lost. His heart knotted up with sympathy, Albus leaned in. "Don't be so down on yourself, Severus. This is not the end of the world."

"You could have fooled me," Severus shrugged.

"I understand if you're scared. But it will all turn out alright in the end. Just let us help you. Let _me_ help you."

Severus was skeptical. "You've broken promises before."

"That I have. But I mean everything I've said here today. I will support you through this rough time. I will keep this pregnancy a secret, no matter what. And as far as this assailant is concerned, I already have Aurors searching high and low for Lord Voldemort's followers. When the time comes that his identity is uncovered, I will personally see to it that he is brought to justice."

Severus wanted to dive down to the floor and beg on his knees for Albus not to do that. He had survived and moved on from the rape; he did not want to be dragged back into that mortifying pain, even if it could end with justice. "With all due respect, Albus," he half mumbled. "I have serious doubts that this man will ever be found. And quite frankly, I'm not sure if I want him to be found."

"You wish to let him get away with what he did?" asked Albus, quite perplexed.

"I wish to forget about it. What happened to me was humiliating, degrading, and so painful. I hope that he burns in hell for what he did, but I don't need to cause myself any more torture by forcing myself to relive it over and over again in the hopes that I remember _something. _I'll go mad!"

Albus sighed. He realized that even though the first thing he thought to do was to file a report with the Aurors, the effect on Severus would be detrimental. He was still struggling as it was, he truthfully did not need to be bombarded with questions about something he sought to put out of his mind. Stress like that could not be good for his health, or the baby for that matter. "Very well, I understand," said the headmaster, giving in. "This will only be between us. But if you ever change your mind, you come straight to me. Because believe me, we could catch him. I know we could." All Severus could do was shake his head, emotionally drained and exhausted.

Albus urged him to stand. "Alright now, I want you to return to your rooms and rest up for the night. I will have the house elves whip something up for you, so don't worry about coming up for supper. I will meet with Minerva and the others tonight to discuss the situation. Furthermore, I urge you to see Poppy again tomorrow for a thorough examination. Only the best care for the little one." Severus nodded and Albus offered a warm smile. The Potions master turned to leave for the safety of his dark rooms. He was stalled briefly in the doorway.

"This really is a wonderful thing, my boy. You'll see that soon enough."

**~HP~**

Severus slammed his door shut, barely missing the hem of his long black robes. He threw himself onto his couch and buried his face in the cushions. He didn't know whether to tear them up, smash his head against the wall, or simply crawl into some deep dark hole. He would do anything, anything to escape this gut-retching pain.

He was pregnant...somehow, he was pregnant. He actually carried a child within his own body. But what would be joyous news to many others could not be any more horrifying for Severus. And worse, there was no way out of it. He had seen so much death, caused too many to die; he couldn't so willingly kill something as innocent as an unborn child. Yet why couldn't there be some way he could stop the world and time, and rid himself of this turmoil? All he wanted was to have no need to remember that horrible night, and that brutal man. Now he had to birth his bastard child? Wherever he was, his rapist lived blissfully unaware of the true torture he had created. He dominated Severus's life once again, and left him with a little something to remember him by. Good Lord, he was pregnant, and he didn't know who his child's other father was!

Emotions assaulted Severus on all sides; anger, fear, and the same shame that gripped him before Dumbledore. He could not honestly believe that it was a wonderful thing to be in the one position a man should never be in. This was not how he was supposed to have a family! He was not supposed to end up as a nearly forty year-old single father, knocked up by some psychopath. Wonderful news, wonderful news indeed! He still wasn't even totally sure if he was going to keep the baby, how wonderful was that? The old wizard assumed that he knew what his younger colleague wanted, but Severus was just as clueless now as he was when he was walking up to face Dumbledore.

He barely acknowledged the house-elf that brought him the meal that the headmaster had promised, shepherd's pie and soup. But Severus could not bring himself to eat any of it. His whole body ached, especially his troubled stomach. The mere smell made his insides cramp up. He just let the heat-charmed tray sit on the coffee table while he lay there, wallowing in his own misery. It was no time before he gave into his exhaustion and fell asleep on the couch.

He was suddenly awakened by the soft click of the door handle. Quiet panic gripping his heart, he arched up to get a look at his intruder. He was only slightly relieved to see Minerva gliding in. Severus sighed; she was recognized by his wards, so of course she could get the door open.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not bothering with a faux-polite greeting. Minerva approached the couch, saying, "I've just come from a meeting with Albus, and I wanted to check up on you before I turned in for tonight."

"Please Minerva, I don't need looking after." Severus held out a hand, as though to push her away. "I just want to be left alone."

Minerva glanced at the table to see the untouched food. "Severus, have you not eaten at all? Merlin, you are impossible sometimes."

"I'm not hungry." Severus glared up at her, trying to give the impression that he was fine.

"But you know that it won't do you any good to skip a meal." The elderly witch sat down as Severus shifted his legs off the couch. She grabbed the warm shepherd's pie and held it out to the weary wizard. "No, Minerva," said Severus, shaking his head.

"Please Severus, you really should eat something."

"I can't, I don't feel that well."

"You should at least try a little. The baby needs the nutrients." Severus stared into her eyes. So this was how it was going to be. Reluctantly, he took the plate. Minerva watched as he managed to force down a few bites. His spine shuddered as they slid down his throat.

"You were awfully quick to point out my condition," he said.

"Well dear, it is what matters most now."

"How much talking did it take for the headmaster to convince you?" Severus pushed the food around his plate with the fork.

"Not very much, actually. Albus was quite direct in what he had to say, and Poppy was there to help explain. I cannot deny that we were shocked, but we all understand and accept your pregnancy. It's just a funny idea, is all." Severus groaned, causing Minerva to lean in closer. "I know what you are thinking, Severus. No, we did not laugh at you, and we never will."

"What's there to stop you from taking delight in my situation behind my back?"

Minerva sighed. "When will you stop believing that the world is out to get you? Yes, it is an unusual situation to say the least. But we'll be here with you through the next few months. Those of us that were there tonight are behind you."

"Trust me Minerva; there is only so much you can do."

Minerva was quiet as she continued to watch Severus and his attempts to eat. He set his fork down and leaned into the cushion, cradling his head in his hand. _'The poor thing,' _she thought. She edged closer to rest a hand on his arm. "Why didn't you tell us something sooner?" she asked. Severus didn't move, nor did he speak. "Were you afraid that if you did, he would try and come after you again?" A short, slow nod was her only reply. "Well rest assured, he cannot hurt you here. He will never lay a hand on the child –,"

"I don't even want to think about the child," said Severus. "Forgive me, but it's a bit difficult to see the good in life when you realize that you are carrying the spawn of some crazed ex-Death Eater."

"I cannot say that I blame you," said Minerva. "Many women would have a difficult time coping with that."

"But even so," Severus continued, his voice breaking up. "If you expect me to be happy that I'll have a living thing leeching off of me for the next seven months, a living thing that I will eventually have to _give birth to, _a burden that was born from pain… I'm sorry, but I just can't." Severus moved his hand to show Minerva the tears beginning to form in his obsidian eyes. He leaned into his emaciated body, setting the plate back onto the table. He blinked away the offending mist, drops hitting the floor.

"Oh Severus," Minerva wrapped her arm around his shoulders and brought him in close. He rested his head on her shoulder, breathing deeply to stop the cries that so desperately wanted to get out. But Minerva did not protest the wetness forming on her robe. She let Severus silently weep into her shoulder, rubbing his arm and stroking his hair. She did not speak; she could tell that what Severus needed was not senseless words, but the sheer comfort of her embrace. She had seen him in plenty of bad times, but this was by far the worst.

Severus pulled away after a long few moments, wiping away the wet trails down his too-pale face. He shifted away from the deputy headmistress once again. She motioned toward the table. "Are you sure that you can't manage anymore?" she said as she returned the half-eaten meal to the tray. Severus shook his head, shutting his eyes as he did so. "What's the point of it? I will just end up bringing it back up tomorrow morning."

Minerva stood up and tapped Severus on the shoulder. "Come on then, let's get you to bed. Perhaps a good night's sleep can help to ease that morning sickness."

In honesty, that was the best suggestion Severus had heard all day. With his emotional outpourings, combined with his natural fatigue, it was a wonder that he was not practically dead on his feet. He thought that it was quite strange as he looked at the clock to see that it was barely half past eight. Thank Merlin that he had no Miss Beckett to worry about tonight!

Minerva pushed open the door to his bedchamber, standing aside to let him through. Severus immediately grabbed the nightshirt hanging from the hook on the bathroom door, and then shut himself inside the tiny room. Minerva busied herself by turning back the covers on the dark, canopied bed. When Severus returned a few minutes later, he was surprised to see that the older woman was still there, waiting for him. She took a step back as he eased down onto the edge of the bed.

"I suppose you have something more to say," said Severus, running his fingers through his greasy hair.

"I just want to reiterate what I said before." Minerva stepped forward and bent over to look him in the eye. "I expect you to ask for help if you need it. This pregnancy will be hard, and now is not the time for unneeded stress." Severus looked down at his midsection, his brow wrinkled in repulse. Minerva brought his gaze back up with a hand under his chin. "This baby is a blessing. You may not see that now, but you will someday. In the meantime, I want you to take the best care of yourself, for your child's sake." Unable to resist, Minerva gave his stomach a light pat. She smiled. "That's right, your child. Goodnight." She quietly rose and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

As though stunned, Severus couldn't move for a brief minute. This outpouring of support was a tough pill to swallow; it was too hard to believe. However, his eyes begging for the relief of slumber, he was not going to allow himself to dwell. He climbed into bed hoping that somewhere in those long vows, for everyone's sake, Albus and Minerva were right.

**~HP~**

_**I'm sorry to those of you who were waiting for this to happen, but it's a difficult tale to tell. Believe me, I would have had this happen much earlier is it was possible.**_

_**I'll be taking a break from posting now, but I'll be back soon with more chapters. Please continue reading, and I look forward to your reviews.**_


	13. Impress and fight back

**_Hey readers, unexpected update. Work has been kicking my ass for the last week, and I have been just too tired to write. But I have had this chapter backlogged for years, and it required very little editing, so I decided to put it up._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

The weekend after Rose finished her detention was a welcome one. Even though she spent most of it sitting on a broom, fifty feet above the ground, she felt great to be out of Snape's clutches. Talking with him those nights was interesting and satisfying, but she still had a life outside his classroom. She took part in Quidditch practice with all the enthusiasm she had, not letting on to anyone that she actually enjoyed her conversations with the greasy bastard. The fact that she liked Potions class again, people attributed that to Rose being back to her old self. Her habit of Granger-esque studying, however, the other Gryffindors simply thought her stubborn and thirsty to prove her skill. And if Rose was honest with herself, they were right.

Monday's Potions lesson was a calm one. Plans to brew a simple concoction were thrown out in favor of quiet note-taking. Though Snape was attentive in the lesson and his teaching, Rose could see that he wasn't entirely there that afternoon. His strict attention was gone, and his thoughts seemed to be somewhere off in the distance, the class just twenty or so nameless shadows. Concern for his wellbeing grew, and Rose wondered to herself if he had gotten any help yet. At times, she found herself caught between full attention and deliberate distraction.

Snape broke up the lesson with a series of questions and every time he turned to the class, Rose was ready. Her perk rivaled that of Hermione as their hands shot up into the air. Rose at times desperately hopped in her seat. And every time, Snape would choose her over her overachieving roommate. Though she was not the only one given the privilege to speak, hearing her voice was beginning to get tiresome. After the fifth correct answer, Rose could hear those behind her audibly groan. But she could not have possibly cared less. It wasn't any of them she was trying to impress.

Several minutes before class was due to end, Snape abruptly ended the lesson. But instead of dismissing them and retreating into his dark office, he reached into a desk drawer. Out came a stack of parchment. The students held their breath; they knew exactly what these papers were. It was the first Potions exam of the term, taken and graded. For many of them, it was the first exam ever of that term. But because it was sprung on them rather suddenly, save for the few who caught the subtle hints, many were not expecting much of their grade.

"I must say, it was a miserable experience to grade these exams," said Snape, his voice a low droll. "A bare few of you managed a decent score, but the rest of them were just dismal. If I were you, I would consider this test to be a fair warning for the rest of term, because this is the standard you should be able to live up to in real life. A NEWT level student should be far better then what many of you have proven to be."

Snape was painfully slow as he glided from table to table, student to student, dropping exam papers in front of nervous kids. He would watch them out of the corner of his eye to have a gander at the reactions to their Cs and Ds. He came down the center aisle and stopped between what he came to realize had become the "head tables." He turned to Harry. "Potter, with the connections that you possess, I'm rather surprised that you could not manage to manipulate your way to a better mark." He tossed down Harry's paper. Even from their seats, Hermione and Rose could make out the C– at the top of the page.

Snape turned to the girls, and both slunk back in their seats. "As for the highest grade in the class," he started. Hermione straightened her back as the Potions professor fingered through the pile and pulled one out. "Some of you might be surprised to find out that it is not who you assume it is."

He let the parchment fall before Hermione. The look on the girl's face was akin to that of a small child whose hamster had just died. In fact, some thought she looked ready to burst into tears. Rose looked from her stunned friend's face to the test on the table, and she too was more than a little shocked. It was not Hermione's usual A, but in fact an A–. Rose struggled to comprehend that somehow, Hermione had missed one answer. One answer! Already, she could hear the Ron's-a-bad-influence jokes in the common room.

She noticed that Snape was still standing over them. "Umm-umm, so you are finally starting to slip, are you Granger?" he said in a low sneer. "Pity…pity, pity. And as for the desperate soul who managed to one-up you, perhaps you should consider taking a little advice from your housemate." He threw down Rose's paper. The gasp was caught in her throat as she stared at the large, clear A above her name.

Rose had no idea how to react. She had done something thought impossible, outscored Hermione Granger in a core NEWT class. Honestly, what she really wanted to do was jump on top of the desk and dance like there was no tomorrow. But what good comes from gloating? Still, Rose found it hard to care. She could kiss Malfoy or even Goyle, she was so happy. She glanced around, now unable to stop the giggly smile. On the other side of the room, the aforementioned blonde wizard and his sour-faced girlfriend were glaring at her, the face of anger amongst the mass of confusion.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Beckett," sneered Snape. "Yes, impressive. Very impressive, indeed. You have come quite a ways in a short amount of time. So if you were trying to prove something to me, you now have my full permission to stop." When Snape's back was turned, Rose managed to release some of the bubbling excitement with a little seat dance, bopping her head to some unheard tune. She didn't really care if she further annoyed her friends and classmates. She also didn't notice when Snape turned back to the class. "That is quite enough, Miss Beckett! If you are so proud of yourself, then perhaps you can tell the class the key herb in the Anti-Paralysis Potion."

**~HP~**

Rose carried the test paper in her hand as she and Hermione tried to make their way back up to the ground floor. And much to Hermione's chagrin, Rose had a hard time with the idea of shutting her mouth. "I cannot believe it! Me? A better grade than you? Bloody hell!"

"Yes, I know," Hermione sighed, trying to remain collected. Harry and Ron were rolling their eyes across the hall. Rose went on. "I mean, who would have thought that one question would make a difference? I can't believe that you got that question wrong!"

"I'm only human. I make my mistakes."

"Yeah, I know, but not in classes. Aye, this is a cool feeling! This must be what it's like to be you!"

"Alright Rose, please cut it out," said Hermione. She wished that she didn't have so many books in her hands, for otherwise, she would wag a finger at her friend. "You're just bragging now. I'd rather not hear it, thank you very much."

Rose shook her head with a smile. "Sorry Mione, I don't mean any harm. But give me something. How many times is this going to happen?"

The boys laughed their agreement as Hermione blushed. "Okay, so you have a point."

Rose snickered. "Ha, you can be just as proud as me nowadays."

They were about to follow Ron and Harry up the stairs when they, along with everyone else in the corridor, were stopped with a high shriek. "_Beckett!_" Both stood still in their tracks and Rose snarled under her breath. They turned to face Pansy Parkinson as she came charging down the hall, Malfoy and Goyle not far behind. The Slytherin came to a halt in front of Rose.

"Yes Pansy?" Rose's words oozed with sarcasm. She was ready to have her ear raped.

"What the fuck was that?!" Pansy growled at the back of her throat. Her male counterparts stood a safe distance away, and even Hermione took a step back from the action.

"What the fuck was what?"

"That know-it-all act you pulled for Snape. Three weeks ago, you were a mindless twit. Now you're better than Granger?!"

"I suppose that's proof that studying is a pretty good thing." Rose cocked her head to the side. "You should try it sometime."

"Oh, you shut up!" Pansy snapped. "I don't know what you did, but I don't like it. You're up to something, Beckett."

Rose laughed, her shrill cackle carrying through the dungeons. "I'm up to something? Parkinson, you slay me! Maybe, just maybe, I got fed up with your precious Head of House calling me good for nothing. Call me mad, but I wanted to prove that greasy git wrong."

"Don't you _dare_ call him a greasy git!"

"Too late, I already said it. Besides, just because you say so doesn't mean it's not true."

"Shove it, Beckett!" Pansy snarled, her finger pointed at Rose's face. Rose looked beyond the tip to Pansy's pug face, into her disturbingly fierce eyes. "Hmm, you're just angry that he didn't eat me alive in detention. What, did he promise you my bones to chew on?"

Pansy slowly, but tensely folded her finger down into what became a threatening fist. "Shut the hell up." Her whisper was cold and dangerous. Even Harry, halfway up the steps, shuddered to hear it. Rose turned away. "Get over it, Pansy! We can't all be in the spotlight." She tapped Hermione's arm, urging her to follow her before this could go any further.

"It's not worth it, you know."

Rose was drawn back by the Slytherin's call. So this wasn't over after all. Hermione tried to grab her shoulder, but she was still weighed down by books. "Come on, Rose. Ignore her," she said. But Rose stepped back toward Pansy. "What is not worth it, Parkinson?" she sneered.

"Your little act."

"What, pray tell, are you talking about?"

"You try to put it out there that you're such a sweet little lady. Everyone thinks you're such a nice girl, but I know better. You showed all of us in class just what an arrogant bitch you are."

"Is that the pot calling the kettle black?" Rose asked sarcastically, but Pansy ignored her. "Sooner or later, everyone else will see you for what you really are and you'll end up the lonely hag you were always destined to be."

"Is that so? I rather thought that was a more appropriate fate for you, bigoted bint." Rose came out into the hall, causing nosy bystanders to move out of her way. Pansy turned on her heels to keep her lock on Rose's face. "It's a wonder why you even try, half-blood."

"Blood doesn't mean anything!"

A small crowd began to gather around the feuding witches. Ron and Harry looked out on the stone battlefield from above. "Is that what you believe?" said Pansy. "Just making up for living with your filthy mother." Rose's face flushed with anger, not caring if the word Muggle had been left out. It was an insult to her mother all the same. Her hand clenched at her side. This didn't seem to concern Pansy, who continued in her attempts to rile Rose up. "Imagine what you could be now if Daddy had raised you the way he should have. A decent pure-blood such as him, I'd call you a disappointment."

"Look Parkinson, this is between you and me," Rose snarled. "Leave my parents out of this."

"Oh, you can't accept the truth, can you? Your mum is a filthy Muggle and nothing can take that away." Gasps and calls echoed through the area, and Hermione's jaw hit the floor. Malfoy and Goyle looked quite pleased in the way their alpha-female was taking down the ginger Gryffindor. Pansy went on still, ignoring the trembling in Rose's chin. "Then there's Daddy. That's a wizard worth taking notice! Oh, but where is Daddy – _gasp_ – is he in jail?" Pansy crept closer to the visibly angered Rose. "What a pity! I wonder if he knows if his daughter is a stupid, phony, glory whore!"

_*Slap*_

Pansy spun to the side, one hand on her cheek. Gasps could be heard as Rose lowered her pale hand. Then Pansy's eyes flared as she straightened up. "You…bitch!" she hissed, half to herself. "You'll pay for that." But as she reached for her wand, she heard, "_Expelliarmus!_" Rose tucked away her own wand as Pansy's went flying across the hall. Then Rose dropped her books on the floor and threw her arms out, almost welcoming. "Well? I'm waiting. Give me what you've got!" Pansy threw down her books with a loud bang and stalked over to Rose.

_*Slap*_

Rose's face spun to her right, and she squinted her eyes shut at the pain. Already, her cheek was raw and sore. But surprisingly, she didn't hit Pansy back. "What's the matter, Beckett? You scared to fight back? Come on, Beckett! Fight back!"

Rose rotated her head back on straight with befuddlement. Was the stupid girl looking for a fight? Maybe this was what she was aiming for all along. And Rose was all too kind to oblige. "Fine!"

_*Slap*_

"You wouldn't…" Pansy's dead eyes were wide with shock and force.

"Try me," said Rose, crossing her arms across her chest. Pansy's face contorted with anger and hate. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"A lot of things, bitch."

The two girls used the brief moment of silence to catch their breath. To many, Pansy was searching her mind for some spitting comment to egg her rival on. Right now, Rose was proud and very stubborn, two good traits to have when in a scrap. But there had to be something to get her to fold. Suddenly, a bleak light bulb went off in Pansy's head, and an idea came to her. She remembered a weakness; a weakness well known and powerful enough to rattle her opponent to the bone. "You scared to fight, Rosie?"

Rose's cheeks burned at the mention of the name, her blue eyes fiery with fury. "Don't call me that, Parkinson," she tried to say calmly, her voiced laced with her anger.

"What is that? You don't like it?" Pansy sneered at Rose, a wicked grin plastered on her face. "Does it bother you, _Rosie_?"

"Shut up, Pansy!"

"Make me!"

_*Slap*_

This time, Pansy didn't even wait to react. She swung her fist and hit Rose square in the jaw. Rose was hunched over for a moment, her long hair concealing her face and the hand that held it. She came up and red curtains parted to reveal the stone-cold glare and the spit-covered knuckles. For Rose, that was the last straw. She lunged for Pansy, causing the surrounding students to shout out and close in around them.

**~HP~**

Remus Lupin found himself strolling through the castle's lowest levels, narrowly dodging his fast-walking, otherwise preoccupied students. The acclaimed werewolf often spent his afternoons enjoying the lively company of his fellow teachers in the staffroom. The only thing that could override that was the demands of his job. That day, he again was seeking out company, but the conversation that would follow was not exactly one he could look forward to, or even desire for that matter. Every time he so much as asked Severus to pass the salt at dinner, the Slytherin's distain for him was proven more and more. All Remus wanted was to treat Severus with the respect that he so deserved, believing all the way that they had the chance to move past their troubled teenage years. How could he do that when he couldn't even get a word in edgewise? Seriously, over a month now, and Severus had not shown any signs of softening up. His extended illness made the difficult man impossible. Remus shook his head at the thought, or rather the explanation for it.

He remembered how floored he was the other night, when he got called up to Albus's office to be informed of Severus's unique situation. He was not told how the wizard had managed to get up the duff, except that it was the work of a nasty curse. It certainly explained that change he had noticed in the Potions master's scent, the one that had nothing to do with hygiene. Remus was left with an insatiable need for answers. He however had to settle with the idea that those answers would come over time. Right now, the only thing that mattered was Severus's health and safety. He felt honored that Albus trusted him to keep the Potions master and his unborn child safe. There was just one problem; Severus could barely stand to be in the same room. The wise headmaster knew this and assured him of mutual cooperation. Now Remus had to figure out a way to make that happen. He surrendered to reality of months of verbal abuse from an emotionally unstable, hormone-drugged Severus. But hey, at least this time he wasn't the cause of it.

He looked through the open doorway to Severus's classroom and spied the visibly worn wizard straightening stacks of parchment on his desk. He moved in closer when Severus turned his back to erase the chalk writing on the blackboard. Remus leaned on the arch of the door. He stared at Severus for a moment. He looked terrible now; war-torn, tired, and a bit sick. But Remus tried to visualize what was surely to come. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to watch that frail body grow with life. He had wondered about that before his own son was born, and the fact that Severus was a man couldn't change that too much. Who knew, maybe pregnancy was what Severus needed to look somewhat healthy for once.

Severus turned back to his desk, but his wandering eyes suddenly locked on Remus. His dark brow tensed and his thin lips melted into the rest of his face. "Hope you don't mind if I drop in for a moment," said Remus, an attempt to break thick ice.

"Get out, Lupin," Severus snarled.

"I know, Severus, I'm the last person you would want to talk to right now. No need to remind me."

"I don't want to talk to _anyone_, much less you. It's bad enough that I have to stand in front of those cretins all day long when I might as well be talking to a solid wall."

"Severus –,"

"Lupin, tell me. Do you truly wish for us to be cordial, as you have said one too many times?"

"Of course I do," said Remus.

"Then you can do us both a favor by leaving me alone for a good long while." Severus stuffed some essay rolls into a drawer. "I have too much on my mind at the moment."

"Pardon me Severus, but wouldn't it make sense to know why I'm here before kicking me out on my arse?" Remus asked with a tweak in his eyebrow. Severus's lip curled. "For fuck's sake, you could have at least chosen a better time than right before my last class. You Gryffindors, always thinking of your own conveniences! Do you honestly believe that I have no idea why you came all the way down here in the middle of the day, what you _wish to talk to me about_?"

Remus, perhaps in wisdom, stepped inside the room and shut the heavy door behind him. This was not a discussion to be overheard. "I suppose you've had other well-wishers since Saturday."

"If you could call three people well-wishers," said Severus "At least you had the decency to be coy. Pomona and Filius apparently do not know the meaning of the word _smother._ All this nonsense of do this, eat that, stay off your feet. And here I thought that no group of people could be more unbearable than the Second years."

"They mean well, Severus. I imagine it has been quite a while since a baby was born to a professor here at Hogwarts." Remus noticed Severus roll his black eyes to the ceiling. "By the way, congratulations on your pregnancy."

"There is nothing to congratulate, Lupin," said the disgruntled Potions master. "I was the victim of unchallenged madness, and I am now a monstrous example of my gender. Gripe all you want about how you know what that feels like, it won't make any difference."

"I know," Remus uttered as he approached the desk. "Look Severus, I know that this isn't easy for you, but hear me out."

"If you've come here to preach, I have already heard quite enough from Albus, Poppy, _and _Minerva."

"Did I say I was here to do that? I'm sorry if I gave you that impression." Remus leaned against a front desk "You're right, I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now. It's one thing to have gone through the torment and pain that we have, but to find yourself pregnant afterward is beyond me. And yes, I don't know how that feels. And I'll be frank, I'm not sure I would want to."

"Oh that's a tremendous comfort," Severus groaned.

"I know, not the best choice of words. Anyway, Albus trusted me to help protect you from whatever's out there, and I intend to do well on that. But I want you to know that I'm not going to treat you like a porcelain doll." The werewolf was pleased when Severus seemed to visibly relax. "You certainly don't need me yammering when you've already got three old ladies doing the same. I assure you, I will not force unneeded care and concern onto you. In fact, I'm fully prepared to step in only when it's absolutely necessary, leaving you alone otherwise. But let me toss this out to you. I'm still here if you need someone to talk to. I don't care if it's just to rant about the kids, complain about your body, or vent your frustrations with Albus. I will listen. I can only hope that you will take advantage of my support, because I have a strong feeling that you need it." Remus took a deep breath in through thin nostrils. "Not for nothing, but you reek of fear."

Severus sighed; leave it to a lycanthrope to say something like that. He would have spat some defense back at Lupin if the DADA professor had not spoken up first. "Minerva and the others have probably told you that you have nothing to worry about. But really, having a child can be one of the most nerve-wracking things a person can endure. And believe me, I know how that feels."

"You see Lupin, here is where you and I differ," said Severus "You might have been just as afraid before you became a parent. But at least you were married when your child was conceived, and at least it was your wife who brought that child into this world. You try to keep your head when you are in my place."

"I might not have birthed a baby, but I still know what it's like. When I found out I was going to be a father, I was scared out of my mind." Remus smirked. "And think about it, I watched Nymphadora through a good deal of her pregnancy. I'm not as clueless as others. As a matter of fact, I think you will much more prefer my company by the time your due date rolls around."

"What does it take to make you understand that I have no interest in being your friend?"

"I think you might have to kill me for that to happen. Come now Severus, you and I are going to have to be more cooperative for these arrangements to work. After all, I hold your secret in my hands. Maybe you could give me a chance to show you that it's worthwhile to have me in your circle."

"And if I say no?" Severus arched a dark brow.

"Then I will follow your every move until the day you go into labour, and make the kids very suspicious." Remus straightened his face to give his threat a little more meaning. It was a total bluff, and Severus probably knew that. But with his part-time job as young Potter and his lot's go-to-guy, the risk was there all the same.

"I have said it before, and I shall say it again," said Severus "You are an insufferable pain in my arse, Lupin." Remus couldn't stop the snickering that escaped his mouth. "The same goes to you, Snape. I really hope that child doesn't take after you."

Their attention was suddenly drawn away by a loud noise. It was a thunderous mash-up of calls, screams, and stampeding footsteps. Remus raced for the door with Severus not far behind. He pulled open the door to a mad dash of students of all ages and houses. They were all running in the direction of the stairs. Remus tried to call above the crowd, but none seemed interested in stopping to chat. So the professor rather bravely stuck his arm out into the hall and got a handful of a First year Slytherin boy's robe.

"What is going on out here?" he calmly asked.

"Fight, fight! Catfight!" the little boy shouted excitedly. He took off like a Muggle bullet the minute he was free of Lupin's grasp. Remus and Severus looked at each other in slight confusion, but then their obligations as professors took over. Both ran out of the classroom, following the echoing voices. They came across a mass grouping students in front of the stairway. They pushed themselves forward, shoving kids to the side if they did not move for themselves. What the two wizards found at the center of this mob was quite a shock, to put it kindly.

Rose Beckett and Pansy Parkinson were down on the dungeon floor, their bodies entangled, yanking on each other's hair. Pansy was beating the back of Rose's head like she had clearly done that before. Rose kept throwing defensive punches at her opponent's face, catching the Slytherin every odd hit. They took turns flipping the other onto the floor, shrieking and swearing the whole time. Snape and Lupin took in the sight of the brawl, astounded by the girls' violent behavior. Without even thinking, they ran in, Severus grabbing Rose's arms and Remus doing the same with Pansy. Then, with great force considering the two professors' natural strength, they yanked the two girls apart. Both fiercely fought back against their restraints.

"Let go of me!" shouted Rose, kicking up her legs.

"Let go! I just had her!" Pansy tried to yank her arms away.

"Girls, girls!" Lupin shouted over the two screaming banshees. "Settle down!"

"No!" Pansy rather boldly snarled. "That bitch is getting what she deserves!"

"Agreed!" Rose growled through gritted teeth.

"Silence, both of you!" Snape growled back, yanking Rose back another foot. "Who started this?"

Both girls pointed to the other and shouted, "She did!"

"She hit me first!" Pansy squealed, looking at Snape like she had just been beaten across the back with a cane. "She threw the first punch!" Rose looked behind the vicious Slytherin at Lupin with wide eyes. Quite obviously, both of the girls were looking to their professors for backup of sorts. Remus huffed, tugging Pansy further away from the feisty Gryffindor.

"Alright, that is quite enough hollering," he raised his voice up again. Across from him, Severus was looking around at the little crowd of spectators, who were visibly anxious now that the fight was over and professionals had stepped in. Some looked like they were secretly hoping that the two mature wizards would simply let the battle continue with them acting as boxing coaches. Severus snarled. "All of you get out of here! There is nothing more to see!" Many looked reluctant to go, but Snape changed their minds with a fierce stare. They shuffled up the stairs in a thundering herd, and to the girls' horror, they trapped their respective friends in their mob.

"So Professor, what do you think?" asked Lupin, arching his eyebrow at Snape. "I believe that fighting counts as something the Heads of House usually handle. You're right here to handle Miss Parkinson here, but I think Minerva's all tied up. I think it would be unwise to bother her now."

Rose twisted her arms in an attempt to turn and face Snape. "Oh no Professor, don't you dare go easy on that bitch and throw me to the dogs. You'll let her go, and I'll be in detention for a month!" She tried to wrench herself away, almost aiming her elbow at Snape's torso. Remus felt a spike of panic rush to his head; what would he do if the angry teen managed to hurt Severus or the baby?

"Miss Beckett," said Snape, avoiding her offensive jerks. "I thought that after the last time, you would understand. You have no right to tell me what to do." His dark eyes travelled back up to Lupin. His stern faced seemed to say that he was quite sure of himself. "We shall take them to the headmaster."

"What?!" The Gryffindor and the Slytherin squealed in a way uncharacteristic for both. "You couldn't do that," Pansy stuttered. "You can't do that!"

"Actually ladies, Professor Snape is right," said Lupin as the two of them started down the hall, their hands still firmly secured around thin arms. "If the Head of House is unavailable to make a decision concerning punishment, an option is to hand that task to the headmaster. Besides, in your case, it would probably be fairer for you two. Less bias that way." The werewolf ignored the quiet snarl form the greasy-haired wizard. "I hope you both realize that this is not something to be taken lightly. Fighting will not be tolerated in any way, shape, or form."

"We're not going to be expelled for this, are we Professor Lupin?"

"Of course not, Miss Beckett," he chuckled. "Neither of you were using your wands, and both of you appear to be relatively unharmed. However, I would expect my evenings to be booked up if I were you."

"But what if I said that my head hurts really badly or if – oh for Merlin's sake, Professor Snape! Could you let up a little?!"

Snape just ignored her with a wicked sneer. "You know, Beckett? It's an attitude like that that keeps getting you into trouble. Will you ever learn to just shut it?"

"I will when she does." Rose glared at Pansy. Her angry rival gnashed her teeth like a mad dog. "You are asking for it, Beckett!"

"Silence, Miss Parkinson," Snape droned. "Further threats will only earn you a deeper grave."

**~HP~**

Remus was the one who knocked on Dumbledore's office door. It swung open on its own accord to show that they were welcome. Dumbledore turned from the thick book he had been reading to the door in time to watch Severus and Remus calmly stride in, tightly hanging onto Rosella Beckett and Pansy Parkinson respectively. He raised his bushy eyebrows at the presence of the two Seventh year girls. "My my, Professors, this is certainly unexpected," he said as he stuck a metal placeholder in the page and closed the book. "What can I do for you and these lovely young ladies?"

"Well sir, we have a situation with these _lovely young ladies,_" said Severus, tasting bile at the mention of those last words.

Dumbledore conjured up two sturdy chairs for the girls to sit in front of his desk. As they settled down, avoiding eye contact with just about anyone, Severus and Remus changed places so that Severus stood behind his pupil and Remus looked over Rose. Dumbledore was a bit amused by this subtle gesture of house loyalty. "So tell me men, what seems to be the trouble here?"

Remus spoke. "Professor Snape and I were having a chat in his classroom when we heard quite a bit of ruckus coming from outside. We both rushed out and we found Miss Beckett and Miss Parkinson fighting."

"I'm merely guessing that this was more than a row?" inquired the headmaster.

"Oh, definitely sir!"

"They were not dueling, were they?"

"No Headmaster," Severus corrected. "They were actually fighting, as in hitting each other as hard as they could and ripping each other's hair out." That mention made Rose rub the back of her head and inspect her fingers for blood. The Potions professor noticed this and smirked. "Funny, for two girls named after flowers, they certainly aren't very gentle."

"Ah, so we have ourselves a little catfight, have we?" Dumbledore smirked, entertained by the idea. It wasn't very often that word of female physical violence got back to him. "Exactly," said Severus, and then Dumbledore turned his attention to the students. "Well ladies, is this true?" He received a slow, reluctant nod from at least one of them. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"She started it," Pansy bit out, jabbing a finger at Rose. "She came at me in the hall and she hit me!"

"I would not have slapped her if she had not insisted on insulting me into the ground first," said Rose through a tight jaw. "And besides, _she_ was the one who punched _me_ in the face."

"That's a bloody lie! She nearly knocked out my front teeth!"

Rose sharply turned her head to Pansy. "Oh yeah? Well you almost took one of my molars on the floor!"

"Ladies, please settle down," Dumbledore raised his voice. "Let me make this clear, who hit the other first?" The girls pointed at each other, their faces stone set in mutual hatred. The elderly headmaster sighed as he shook his head. "So what the two of you mean to say is that you _both _started this scrap?" Parkinson was about to respond with a terse nod, but stopped short when she processed the statement. She folded her arms across her chest, forcing herself further into the chair. Beckett was doing the same thing, though she was leaning her body as far from the Slytherin girl as she could without falling off her behind.

"Can one of you tell me about the dispute that caused this?" asked Dumbledore, seeking a clearer picture. But the girls seemed to be done talking. They stared off into space, quite happy to be ignoring each other. The old man looked up at the younger professors. "Did either of you see much of what happened?"

"We didn't hear anything before we showed up to pull them apart," said Remus, shaking his head.

"However," Severus jumped in. "Miss Parkinson did say something along the lines of _"the bitch was getting what she deserved."_ And Miss Beckett here was no better. If that is what they said after the fact, I cannot imagine the colorful language that spurred them on." He chose not to notice the look of utter betrayal from Pansy as she twisted her head to his angle. Rose rolled her eyes in mild disgust.

Dumbledore thought for a moment, taking in the sight of the girls. They certainly looked like they had been at each other; dust covered their faces and clothes, and bruises were beginning to form under thin layers of skin. They looked roughed up, but they did not look hurt. Though it wasn't immediately clear how they came to end up in front of his desk, it was plain to see that they both were very much responsible. And so, they both had to pay the piper.

"Well ladies, as I'm sure both of you already know, fighting is not tolerated in the slightest at Hogwarts. And therefore, forty points will be taken from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. In addition, though we cannot reach an agreement as to who started this dispute, both of you will receive two weeks' detention." Dumbledore allowed a moment of muffled moaning and grumbling.

"But Professor Dumbledore, I just finished three weeks of detention!" Rose complained with a groan.

"Well, Miss Beckett, you should have thought of that before you got involved." Dumbledore looked up at Snape and Lupin. He really did not want to stick Severus with more unneeded work, but sometimes you had to take opportunity when it presented itself to you. "Professors, are you both available for a few days?"

"More than available," said Severus, glancing down at the scowling Gryffindor. Remus also nodded. "I've got more than enough time, sir."

The headmaster clapped his hands together. "Alright then! And just to avoid any bias – don't either of you deny it, I know you too well – Miss Parkinson, you will go with Professor Lupin, and Miss Beckett, you shall go with Professor Snape." The girls looked over their shoulders at their preferred professor, and then across to their assigned professor. Both Snape and Lupin looked at the product of their respective houses with silent apologies. Dumbledore spoke again. "This order is effective tonight at seven thirty, and as for you Miss Beckett, Professor McGonagall will be informed as soon as possible. I hope you two learn a valuable lesson about senseless violence. Be kind to an old man; don't let me see you in front of this desk again."

Rose and Pansy took this as their cue to leave, and they rose from their chairs. Lupin opened the door and beckoned for one of the girls to come forward. Pansy seized the chance and bolted from the room, her footsteps echoing all the way down the steps. Rose gave her enemy a good, long minute to vacate the stairs and the surrounding area before she too followed. Remus shut the old door behind her, the hinges creaking.

"Merlin, what has become of today's youth?" he said, breathlessly.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Please, those two have been going at it since day one. It was only a matter of time before one of them lost their marbles."

"Yes, I think it would be prudent to consult with Minerva about a way to keep those two apart for a while," said Albus. He looked to Severus, who hadn't moved from where he stood. The younger wizard pulled the length of his black robes around his body. Albus thought this subtle gesture to be quite disconcerting; already Severus was feeling self-conscious about being pregnant and in the open. "I really hate to do that to you, my boy. I don't want to put any stress on you. Are you sure you want to take the girl? If not, I'm sure Minerva would be more than happy to –,"

"Let me make something very clear, Albus," said Severus. "Regardless of what is happening to me personally, I am an educator first. I will not be told what or what not to do with my work, especially in moments like this. Do you honestly believe that I will let my condition stop me from giving one of those brats what she deserves?"

"Severus," said Remus, walking over to sit in one of the abandoned chairs. "Don't you think that they're a little old to be called brats?"

"I will stop calling them that when they behave their age," Severus sneered.

"Indeed," said Albus. "Forgive me, Severus. I just thought that after what happened last month, you would like a break from Miss Beckett. After all, did you not just let her go from her last set of detentions, say, three days ago?"

"Trust me Albus, I don't mind," Severus assured the elderly wizard. "That redheaded lioness is actually quite useful. Haven't you seen my classroom recently?"

**~HP~**

**I have to say, in all the time I've been writing this story, this remains one of my favorite chapters. I had a blast writing it, and it was an idea that was always part of the plot. I take great pleasure in putting it out there for more to see.**

**I'll post some more when I have time to edit. Until then, read and review! Thank you!**


	14. Rosella

**__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

That night, Severus waited for Beckett with the utmost patience. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he was rather pleased to have her under his control once again. He wasn't exactly thrilled with two more weeks of extra work, but her skill, not to mention her endurance, were probably going to come in handy over the next few days. And though he would deny it to the ends of the earth, their more recent talks brought a sense of calm to the room. In fact, it sometimes just barely felt like he was overseeing a punishment. Severus was reminded time and time again why it was easier to discipline the older students. Albus expected that Beckett's presence would cause him stress, but Severus only saw the convenience.

Rose entered the Potions room at exactly seven thirty, looking quite content with herself, as though she had long surrendered to her fate. She looked at Snape with a soft, relaxed nod. "Hello again, Professor," she politely said, pulling her wand from the folds of her robe. Rose held the handle out to Snape. "I know the routine. Here's my wand. What do you want me to do?"

Snape gently gripped the dark wood and then not so gently locked it away. He smirked when he noticed that Rose didn't even flinch at her wand's abuse. "Well, well, Miss Beckett. If I didn't know any better, I would say that you were happy to be here."

Rose chuckled lightly. "Am I happy? No. Am I devastated? No. Let's just get this over with. I've got a Charms quiz to study for."

"If you insist," said Snape. "Grab the bucket and fill it up. You are scrubbing the desks again."

"Yes sir." Rose glided over to the corner where her trusty bucket lay and carried over to the sink. And before Snape knew it, her hair was tied back and she was trying to scrub a dried patch of liquid off of nearby desk.

Quickly, the professor and his student settled back into their quiet evening regime. Rose took her time in doing her job to ensure good quality, while Snape watched on from behind his desk. Already, the Potions master was beginning to feel the weight of the day, the reality of his pregnancy shoving itself into the forefront of his thoughts…again. Severus could not believe that he managed to effectively teach when that was all he could think about. When he wasn't lost in his own horrific visions, he was crawling in his skin, though that may have been due to the invasive examination he had endured the day before. Aside from his recent malnutrition, Poppy had told him that he and the baby appeared to be in good health. But that did not stop her from explaining a very long list of guidelines and warnings that he should adhere to from now on, unaware of the loss of sleep and alertness it would cause. Severus knew that she was only doing her job, but it must have occurred to her that this was too much for him to swallow. She could have at least given him a week to let this pregnancy fully sink in before telling him about cutting back on his work levels, a new strict diet, and the lovely symptoms that had yet to cause him trouble. His head was spinning, though he would be damned if he let anyone see. Here's to hoping that Beckett wouldn't notice anything off, if she hadn't already.

He watched the young Gryffindor to keep himself occupied. He watched her work with incredible speed, yet still manage to produce pristine desktops. More specifically, he watched her face. That pale, freckled face held an odd expression; it was not of a trapped victim, nor a disgruntled servant. It was devoid of the negative attitude that he thought should be there, and she looked simply like she was quietly obeying orders. She did not look like someone who regretted her actions, not how a kid should look when being punished. She never ceased to amaze him, he thought yet again. Poppy would probably have a thing or two to say about him staying up late to monitor detentions, but when it came to the young person in question, at least Severus had the luxury of being stuck with one of Gryffindor's more mild-mannered young ladies.

Well, relatively mild-mannered anyway.

"I'm sure you know that I have to ask," he said, this time choosing to take the initiative in starting a mild conversation. If he got her talking, then perhaps she could help take his mind off of his condition for a while.

"About what happened?" Rose turned to him, her hand dunked into the soapy water. "Yeah, I guessed that much."

"Look, I know that you and Parkinson have not had the most peaceful of relationships, but the most that I ever had to do was break up a screaming match before a class, dock a few points."

"From me," said the Gryffindor, cocking her light eyebrow. Snape rolled his eyes up. "Not relevant at the moment, Beckett. What in the world happened for it to finally come to blows?"

"You knew that we would end up in a fight?"

"I said to Professor Dumbledore that it was bound to happen," said Snape. "I know Parkinson too well, and I have a sneaking suspicion that she's wanted to do that for quite a while."

"Oh really, Professor? And I suppose that you were going to let it happen?" Rose annoyingly tapped a dainty fingernail on the desktop. Snape rolled dark eyes to the ceiling. "There isn't really much I could do to stop her from taking a swing at you, or you at her," he said. "But notice how you have not answered my question. What happened this afternoon?"

"There isn't much to tell," said Rose, trying to work out a particularly stubborn stain. "Parkinson cornered me by the stairs, she started taunting me, insulting me, and before I knew it, I had a face full of dirt and a handful of black hair." She hauled the bucket to the next table, but Snape had a nagging feeling that that was not the whole truth. Rose was withholding something, but it was just beyond the wizard's comprehension.

"Miss Beckett," he said slowly, and attentive eyes shifted to him. "Did you hit Parkinson first?" He figured that now that she was separated from Parkinson, he might be able to get a much clearer idea of what happened. It had to be better than Parkinson's accusations of being thrown up against the wall with no rhyme or reason, and viciously beaten with only jealousy to blame.

Rose was quiet for a moment, no doubt weighing out her options in her head. But she sighed and leaned against the desk. "Yes, I slapped her across the face. That much she was honest about. But I only did it because she insulted my fa – my friends."

Snape nodded, catching the hesitation in her words. "Was that was spurred you on into mortal combat?"

"No…" Rose shook her head, turning her attention back to the wet brush in her hand. "It was something else she said."

"And what might that be?" asked a curious Snape. Parkinson failed to mention that, making it out like Beckett had done all the screaming.

"She…she just called me a name."

"What did she call you?"

Rose flushed a light pink, looking rather uncomfortable in her own skin. "Do you promise not to laugh?" Her voice was unusually small.

"Very well Miss Beckett, though I'm sure it's not that terrible."

"Alright," said Rose as she dropped the brush into the bucket. "She called me…she called me Rosie." Snape had to fight to stifle the laugher that tickled his throat. His face fell to the floor and his hand covered his mouth. And when he looked back up to Rose, he found that he was staring into the eyes of a beaten puppy. "Professor, you promised you wouldn't laugh at me," she said, suppressing a whine.

"Pardon me, Beckett," Snape half-apologized. "I have been teaching for a very long time, and never have I had to pull apart two brawling students because one called the other the wrong variant of their name."

"But Professor Snape, I really hate it when people call me that."

"Obviously!" Snape raised black eyebrows.

"I mean it," Rose persisted. "I've always hated being called that."

"It's beyond me why," said the Potions master, scratching his scalp beneath oily hair. "It's a perfectly normal name. I have seen a number of 'Rosie's come through this room over the years. It is not like people are calling you something truly awful."

"They might as well be," said Rose. The arch in her professors left brow told her she had more explaining to do. "I have my reasons; I just prefer not to be called that. I'd take my given name over Rosie."

"What's wrong with your given name?"

"Please, Rosella? It's awful, so bloody pretentious! And nobody calls me Rosella anyway, not even my own family. Professor, I didn't even know that _was_ my real name until I was six years old."

"I don't see much wrong with it," said Snape, his face relaxed. "It's an old name."

"I wouldn't expect any different from a man named Severus," Rose said with a smirk. "Yeah, it's old, but it's too old in my opinion. And it's a mouthful for most people. You ought to hear people from Yorkshire say my full name."

"Watch it, Beckett. I'm from Yorkshire."

"You are? Oh sorry, you really don't sound it." Rose blushed again, busying herself at the last remaining table. "Yeah anyway, you see it's just easier to go by something else."

"But why such disdain for Rosie?" asked Snape, leaning on his desktop.

"I just don't like it." Rose carried the bucket to the sink and dumped out the dirty water into the basin. She set it down on the stone floor before grabbing a rag to dry off the desks.

"Miss Beckett, no one hates their name enough to physically assault someone else." Rose looked at Snape, visibly unsure as to go on further. The older wizard urged her along. "You've done a fine job at keeping your mouth shut these last few weeks. Seems fitting that I do the same for you."

Rose's gaze bounced from wall to wall, questioning if this was really Snape saying that. She got over herself quickly and said, "This won't leave the room?" Snape shook his head in response. Then Rose let out a little, light sigh. "It was what my dad used to call me, alright?"

Realization hit Snape like a dart hits a bull's-eye. That certainly made a lot of sense. He chose his next words carefully; it was always treading into dangerous territory when dealing with a strained relationship with a known felon, a felon that he knew a bit too well. "Oh, I see," he said, nodding his understanding.

"It's funny really," Rose continued. "He's the one who stuck me with such a high-strung name, and yet he hasn't used it since the day I was born."

"That does sound like Alistair." Snape's eyes wandered away. "Understand, Miss Beckett. Your father always did have his troubles sticking with any one plan of his. He couldn't commit to anything when he was at school."

"Trust me sir, no one knows that better than I do," said Rose. She tried to stay focused on her work, which to her displeasure was winding down. "If he could commit to anything, he wouldn't have left my mother. But I'm not going to bother you with useless frustration, don't fret."

"Thank you for your consideration," said Snape with a trace of sarcasm. "But as I said, I have been doing this a very long time. I know how your kind are liable to implode if they don't get their chance to tell their sad little tales."

"It's nothing that I haven't said before."

Severus didn't give the girl a chance to shake off the conversation. When he asked her those questions, Rose had the right not to respond. She could have been her usual stubborn, Gryffindor self and stood her ground about keeping her private affairs private. But she did not. So as it was, she got herself there, so she had to deal with the consequences. And besides, if he hadn't changed much since their school days, Alistair Beckett was probably a wizard worth ranting over.

"You said that he used to call you Rosie. I take it that he doesn't anymore?"

Rose shook her head, her gaze turned inward. "No," she said softly. "He stopped a long time ago."

"But it still makes you angry. Why is that?"

"Why do you want to know? You don't care." Rose seemed to buff the desk surfaces a little harder after she said that. She also turned her back to her professor, who rested his chin in his hand. "Because you tried to understand my recent anger towards you and the other students. I hate to say it, but I believe I owe that to you."

Rose turned back and was taken aback by Snape's calm expression. In that moment, he was not the sinister wizard they all had grown up despising. He was a man who was willing to listen. Rose wondered to herself if this was a side of Snape that usually only the Slytherins saw. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"If I ever have to yank you out of another skirmish, it would help to have an idea why."

Rose tossed aside her damp rag and approached Snape's desk. She sat down on one of the closer stools and leaned her arms on the spotless table. "You want to know, well here it is. Like I said, my dad hasn't called me Rosie in years, but I know he did at one time. My mum says it's a miracle that I even remember because I was really young, no older than two. It's a pretty fuzzy memory, but it's still there. It's my dad, standing over me, talking to me. I can't quite make out what he's saying, except my name…and back then it was Rosie. I think that was the most peace that was ever between us. But with the way he's been since he and my mum spilt up, you can guess why I don't like thinking back on that."

Severus listened with a wrinkled brow. He was surprised to realize that he felt the slightest pang of sympathy for Rose. His hormones must really be messing with his mind. He had known about Alistair's mysterious broken marriage, and Rose Beckett was never more than a product of that. But it wasn't until that night that he thought about the lasting effect of his old housemate's mistakes. This girl was obviously a bit more troubled than she made herself out to be. Maybe it was self-preservation, maybe she was protecting her ego. But right there, the Gryffindor suddenly seemed a little more human to him. And the fact that she felt comfortable enough to tell him this, Severus was at a loss for words. Was he losing his mind? Was Beckett?

"Well, I am sorry that you feel that way." It was the only thing that Severus could come up with in the face of this young woman's openness. It did not seem appropriate to try and come up with some sort of snappy comeback, not when she had willingly let that go. And to be frank, he preferred this calmer Rose Beckett. He did not want to take his chances and wind up with the screaming banshee he had seen that afternoon. Rose nodded with a weak smile before standing up and whirling around to finish her work.

They didn't talk again until Rose brought the rag back over to the corner and set it down, folded, beside the sink. She turned to the Potions master. "Well sir, what do you think?" She motioned to the clean desks.

"A fine job, once again," said Snape. Rose smiled with a good nod, a quick little burst of pride shooting through her spirit. While this did not go unnoticed, Snape was not pestered by it too much. At least this time his did not taste bile at the sight of that smug face. Yes, he definitely preferred this Beckett!

"Anything else you wanted me to do tonight?"

Severus thought to himself for a moment. It was still a bit earlier than he would prefer, and Seventh year curfew was not until eleven. But his pure fatigue spoke for itself. He suppressed the urge to groan. There were ways to ease his morning sickness, but he couldn't avoid being so tired at the end of the night. "No, no, that's quite enough," he said. "I think I shall do us both a favor and call it a night." He opened his drawer and took hold of Rose's wand. He then held it out for her to take. "Be warned, however, because I have plenty of work for you tomorrow."

"Okay," said Rose, rolling her eyes. "Same time?"

"Not unless I say different." Snape rose from his chair and started around the desk. "Now go. Goodnight Miss Beckett."

"Goodnight," said Rose as she turned for the door. But she slowed to a stop just before she reached the handle. "Oh, and Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks…for listening, I mean." She gave him a small, appreciative smile. Then the door opened and she was gone. Severus was left feeling a bit odd, perhaps he was pleasantly surprised. Some voice in the back of his mind was telling him that this new stint of detentions was not going to be a burden.

**~HP~**

_**Very short chapter and a very short read. In case you haven't realized it already, this is kind of how it is with Rose; little bits about her come out over time, and it will be a long time before we really know her intimately. I'm sorry to anyone who is waiting for more mpreg loveliness to be hashed out, but I assure you, it makes for a mores satisfying plot later on.**_

_**Keep on reading, and keep on reviewing! Thanks!**_


	15. Sad-sack Malfoy

**__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Severus stumbled out of the tiny bathroom connected to his office. Adjusting to the idea of being pregnant was maddening enough. But at least when he thought he was ill, there was the hope that the nausea would eventually go away. Now he had to surrender to loo worship for several more weeks, possibly months. Again, he ran down his very long list of wrongs to figure out what earned him such terrible morning sickness. This had to be someone's revenge; that mongrel Black was somewhere off in the beyond dying all over again with uproarious laughter.

His stomach churned again and Severus reached for a dose of his trusty Anti-nausea Potion. He downed the whole bottle with one tip of his head. He knew that he should not be using this potion every day; though it was not toxic in large amounts, it wasn't exactly the best of ideas while he was with child. Poppy had told him to only use it when absolutely necessary, and the nauseous wizard considered a sudden onset of illness in the middle of his morning class to be the best time to go searching for those little bottles. Pomona promised him the herbs for a safer, pregnancy-friendly version of the potion. Well, for the sake of that undergrowth she called plant-life, she had better be on it. To himself, Severus was daring the woman to prove her commitment to this whole brouhaha by growing those herbs in three days flat.

A knock at his office door startled the Potions master. Dropping the empty bottle into his robe pocket, Severus edged over to his waiting desk chair. "Who is it?" he called. "What do you want?"

"It's Draco Malfoy, sir. Do you have a moment?"

Severus was a bit surprised at the meek voice echoing into his office through thick wood. Draco had been anything but himself in recent months. Up until recently, his godson had only just surpassed being considered a recluse. He had shut himself up in his family's estate for nearly the entire summer, one of the lucky few to escape the media madness in the wake of the Dark Lord's downfall. Evidently, being all but forced to return to Hogwarts was of no help to the lad. Severus had heard the Gryffindors calling Draco things like glum and sad-sack, and for once in his life, Severus had to agree with them.

"Yes, come in!" he shouted weakly as he fell back into his chair. The door creaked open and Draco slowly crept in. He used his heel to slam the door behind him. "Hello Professor," he said on a sigh.

"You know, Draco, you don't have to pretend to be proper." Severus said this as he gestured toward the empty seat before his desk. Draco had always been allowed to call him by his given name in private company, and that certainly had not changed.

"I'm sorry, sir – er – Severus." Draco let his schoolbag drop down to the floor with a good _thud._ He fell just as heavily into the dark chair.

"So what are you doing here?" asked Severus.

"Just thought I'd stop by for a talk." Draco twiddled his fingers as he spoke.

"It's nothing of importance, is it?"

"No, no," said Draco, shaking his head. "Just a chat. By any chance, have you still got some of that sherry you used to keep in here?"

"You know that as your professor, it would be unwise of me to give you alcohol," said Severus. "And so early in the day too."

"Yes, but that was before I was of age." Draco cocked a pale eyebrow. "Please Severus, I could really use it. No one's got anything in the common room." The boy was polite, but Severus could smell a hint of desperate desire underneath. He did not want to watch Draco become an alcoholic, much less aid in it, and he vaguely wondered how much enabling Narcissa had done recently. But still, he felt some a scrap of sympathy, allowing himself leniency for his favorite student.

"Alright, but just this once." Severus produced a glass and reached down into the drawer. He tried not to regret a thing he was doing as he poured out the warm liquor. How he wanted a glass himself, forbidden from having so much as a taste. He really should not have told Poppy about those drinks he had before he knew about the baby.

Draco gulped down his first few swigs. Severus watched in concern; that boy had better not turn to self-medication every time his day looked a little bleak. "You were slow to approach me this term," he said.

"I thought that after this past year, you would like your space."

"Finally, one person who sees the sense in that," Severus shrugged. "But waiting until October to come have a chat seems a bit extreme."

"Well pardon me for thinking of you," Draco coughed out, a weak display of offense. Severus could have made some accusation of Draco only sparing a care for himself, but left it alone. The young Malfoy often only cared for himself on a good day, let alone in a fit of woe.

"Was there anything in particular that you wanted to talk about?"

"Actually, yeah there was," said Draco, sipping his sherry. "How have you been treating Beckett in her detentions?"

"Hmm, odd of you to care about another student's punishment. Why do you ask?"

"She's been far too perky since the other day." Draco shrugged with a wrinkled brow. "Everyone knows she was in a fight, and she's got detention with you again. But you wouldn't know it by looking at her. She acts like nothing happened!"

Severus thought about it for a moment. "Parkinson put you up to this, didn't she?"

Pink crept into pale cheeks as Draco shifted his gray eyes. "She might have…"

"What did she say, Draco?"

"She told me to tell you that you should be harsher on Beckett, because she doesn't think the bitch has it so bad."

"Do my ears deceive me?" Severus narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to say that you and Parkinson doubt my ability to effectively discipline a student?"

"I don't doubt you, sir! Those are Pansy's words, not mine. But you can't exactly blame her. She's miserable with Lupin, and Beckett just goes about her day without a care."

Severus smirked, leaning on the top of his desk. "Perhaps that is because Beckett is a stubborn Gryffindor who hangs around with Potter and his pride of merry lions. To be honest, I would not expect much less from her."

"Well, do you think that you could at least do something to drag her down a little?" asked Draco. "Appease Pansy?" Severus rolled his eyes. No wonder Beckett always seemed to have trouble with Parkinson; that girl was downright selfish! She was sending her boyfriend to ask her Head of House to sacrifice his time to spoil her foe's fun. Apparently, the Slytherin girl had failed to notice his poor stamina as the Gryffindor had.

"What does Lupin have her do?"

"He makes her write lines, a hundred and fifty times a night."

'_Fair enough! Parkinson is much more concerned with how her penmanship looks than for what she's actually writing. It could take her hours!' _Severus leaned back into his chair, running his fingers down the curve of the sherry bottle. "Please, Beckett has to do far more than that as it is now! So you can go back to your girlfriend and assure her that her _sworn enemy _is not getting off easy." He tipped the bottle to the side, eying the sloshing liquid inside. His longing was diverted by a thankfully gentle wave of nausea.

"Thank Merlin," Draco sighed. "I'm getting tired of the whining about carpal tunnel or whatever she said."

"How is that going? Your relationship, I mean."

Draco tipped back the last swig of his liquor. "It's alright, I guess. I mean, the snogging is still good, it always was. But other than that, there isn't too much. Also…Pansy's gotten a bit clingy lately."

"This is a bad thing?" Severus asked with a wrinkled black brow.

"Well, I don't mind it that much. But she wants to be with me all the time now. She won't leave me and Gregory alone. You know that there are times when guys need to get away from their women."

"I do," said Severus, ignoring the fact that he never really had a woman to get away from. Draco continued. "But see, I don't think Pansy understands that. And she kept wanting to come out to the Manor over the summer. I didn't really want to be around anyone, and a girlfriend was the last thing I needed on my mind."

"It sounds to me that you are not happy with this girl."

"No, it's not that. It's not that I don't feel anything for her, because I do. She's been through a lot with me, you know? She was one of the few who bothered to stick by me. I mean look what happened last year. I go back on the Dark Lord's cause, and she takes me back."

Severus was slow to respond, studying Draco's face and tone. "You still don't sound too sure of yourself."

"You see my dilemma." Draco sunk into the chair, as though to wait for the booze to pump through his body. This was just pathetic, Severus thought. Draco was confused and stuck at a crossroad, and he did not look like he was going to do a thing about it. He was not just depressed, he was giving up. What happened to the domineering young lad that he had looked after since a boy? "What can I say, Draco?" he said. "It's obvious that you aren't satisfied, and I don't think you are in love with Pansy."

"I never said I didn't love her," Draco objected, sitting up in his seat. But Severus shut him up with a swift swipe of the hand. "Trust me; if you were so sure of that, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. There are times when you are allowed to put your own needs first."

Draco sighed. "I don't know, Severus. I'm not cutting her loose yet. I guess I'll just give it a little more time, see if it's worth it."

"She's clingy and she talks too much, but it's worth a shot." Severus pushed down the impulse of laughing at such an idea.

"Yeah," said Draco. "I probably won't get a date otherwise, so what the hell?"

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"You've seen the way they all look at me." The young Slytherin's face twisted in his disgust. "Even girls in our house have been talking. Obviously, former Death Eater doesn't have the same ring to it these days. Merlin forbid I roll up my sleeve."

"Well what did you expect?" Severus snapped before he could think. Draco drew back, caught off his guard. "Life isn't all roses, in case it's missed you. I know what you are going through now, and I know it's dreadful. But you can't run from it forever."

"I'm not running from anything," said Draco, a snarl forced down into his throat. He gripped the arm of his chair.

"Oh really? Then what do you call holing up in a very big house for three months, coming out of your room only for your parents and a few house elves?" Severus's deep eyes bored into Draco, all too eager for an answer to that one.

"I'm sure that it was a better idea than parading through the streets, ignoring the attempts to spit at my face." Severus tried to cock his head to the side, but Draco shot up to his feet, shaking a hand. "No, I mean it. I read the editorials. They were calling me a spineless coward. At least they left you alone!"

"They only left me alone because Dumbledore demanded it," said Severus. "And I hate to tell you this, but they had a point. It could be seen as rather cowardly to try and hide from what's happened."

"Look Severus," Draco began to pace in front of his teacher's desk. "I made some stupid mistakes, thought some stupid things. It took one madman to make me see that I was no more important than the scum I grew up loathing. My world came crashing down and everyone else is so kind to remind me! I'm sorry, but I can barely comprehend how I could function in the world, forget about this school. Sometimes I wonder why I ever bothered to come back, I don't need it."

"You made the right decision, Draco." The concern weighing down Severus's mind finally found its way into his voice. "You could at least act like this castle is better than Azkaban. You don't know how lucky you really are that no one thought to lock you up."

"I've heard quite enough of that," said Draco. Severus shook his head. "From your father, no doubt."

"I wish, he was barely around long enough to give the time," the lad sneered. "Whenever he wasn't out boozing, he hardly had a thing to say." Draco reached for the sherry, but Severus quickly snatched up the bottle and brought it to his chest. He returned it to the drawer. "I worry about you, Draco," Severus said, casting a quick charm to protect his aging alcohol. "You're the closest thing I've had to a nephew. It was terrible to read your mother's recent letters, and you've done nothing to ease me since the start of term." He noticed that Draco was still eying the closed drawer. "Do not follow your father's example! Alcohol won't take anything away. If anything, think of what your mother would say if she knew that her only son was attempting to drink away his troubles."

"Can't you see that I'm doing all I can do?" Draco stared down his nose, much like the way Severus had done to too many before. "And besides, I'm more concerned about you than I could ever be for myself. What they've been saying about you, is it true? Have you been ill?"

'_Damn it, him too?' _Severus shook the thought off. Of course Draco would have noticed his failing health and odd behavior. But even if Severus looked at the young man like family, he too was counted among the vast numbers of untrustworthy children. And Draco he considered to be one of those students most likely to be sent into a mental breakdown by the mere phrase of _guess-what-I'm-pregnant. _"That's none of your concern, Draco. But don't make this about me. You came here to talk, to me that was a cry for help. Don't wall yourself up again. Tell me, what's convinced you that you've got nowhere to go but down?"

"I don't know how to live in Saint Potter's world, and I'm stuck in a one-note relationship. What more can I do than maintain?"

"You could think about where you will end up one day," said Severus. "Sure, your idea for a perfect world did not turn out as you had hoped. But life does not end at eighteen. Do you think I was overjoyed to come back this soon? Absolutely not! With my reputation, it would have been prudent to spare the public my presence."

"Well then why are you here?" asked Draco, just hanging onto the last of his manners.

"Because whether I like it or not, my life is my work. That old fool of a headmaster put me back in my place because he thought it was the best thing for me. Such was the same with all of you. You are young; your place is at school. And you are young enough that your part in the Dark Lord's war can eventually be overlooked."

"Tell that to those blown-up berks and gossip-drunk bitches."

"I can't ruin everyone's day," said Severus, leaning back in his chair. "Would you settle for Beckett scraping chewing gum off the underside of desks with her bare hands?"

"Only if she's allowed to use only her fingernails."

Severus smirked at that idea. That girl certainly would not appreciate that; let's see how long she can keep her cool under Goyle's desk. "I'll send her your love."

"Pansy's as well," Draco added. "It's a bit hard to terrorize a girl when you aren't allowed anywhere near her outside class."

Severus looked up at the clock. "Speaking of which, you had best be off. You wouldn't want to keep her waiting, would you?"

Draco sighed as he too noticed the time. He reached down for his schoolbag and turned toward the door. "I do appreciate your time, Severus. Hey, don't let anyone else have that sherry. That's some good stuff." Oh, Severus could guarantee that! But he didn't exactly see the boy's name on the bottle either. If Severus couldn't drink it, then neither could Draco.

He was about to start preparing for his next class. But not two minutes after the door swung closed behind Draco, a sharp _pop _nearly made Severus jump out of too-pale skin. Seeing nothing around him, he leaned over his desk and looked down. A puny house-elf stood there with a plate of toast, smeared with apple butter, and one whole mackintosh.

"Professor Dumbledore wishes for Professor Snape to be eating more. He sent Bipsy to bring Professor Snape a second breakfast."

**~HP~**

_Dear Rose,_

_I sincerely apologize that it took me so long to respond to your last letter. It has been quite a frenzy at work recently. For such a small village, Meadow Hill sure can keep a person busy. Congratulations on your spot on this team of yours. I don't really know how this game works, but if it's anything like football, I'm sure it must be a great deal of fun. I know that if you ever do get a chance to play, you will be wonderful. I regret that I won't be there when that happens, though I don't know how I feel about you flying around on a broom. Way too risky if you ask me._

_On another note, I do hope you have thought about what you said to your teacher some time ago. As I said in my last letter, I was truly disappointed by your behavior. That is not how a proper English lady should be! I am just grateful you had enough self-control to not use any magic. If your detention hasn't already ended, take it for all it's worth. Even in your world, you have to learn respect. And it's best that you do it now before you come home for good._

_I miss you dearly, and I hope that all is well with your little friends._

_Love always,_

_Mum._

"Rose!"

Rose looked up, quietly huffing as Hermione crossed the courtyard. Shoving the rest of her half-eaten Chocolate Frog into her mouth, she stuffed her letter into a deep pocket in her schoolbag and looked up from where she sat on the wall. "What's up, Mione?" she said, voice coated in chocolate.

"I've been looking for you." Hermione stopped beside her friend. "I stopped by Professor Wicker's classroom, but she said that she hadn't seen you since this morning." Rose looked around and immediately noticed the absence of a certain male presence. "Where's Ron?"

"Oh, he and Harry are in the common room. They forgot to finish their Potions homework."

"Oh…" Rose wasn't too surprised to hear that. After all, Harry and Ron's lives now only seemed to involve eating, sleeping, girlfriends, and Quidditch. She swallowed the last of the chocolate. "So what's going on?"

Hermione set herself down next to Rose. "You remember a few weeks ago, when you told me that you were playing around with Muggle electronics and magic?"

"Yeah, you said that it was a stupid idea since nothing would work here anyway," Rose spoke with a very defined arch in her brow. Her blue eyes thinned out as well. Hermione shrugged with an odd shake of her head. "I know, but I was thinking about it today before Ancient Runes. While we're on break, do you want to go up to the room and show me what you've been up to? I'm a bit curious."

"Sure," said Rose as they stood up. Hermione raised her delicate hand. "I still don't see much reason in it, but it can't hurt to check it out. I've never really asked Mr. Weasley what he does out in his shed."

"I welcome the help," Rose chuckled. "Then again, if you can figure out what I really want to do, I'll give you half the credit."

"Oh no, not that rubbish idea again," said Hermione, brown eyes rolling to the sky.

"Ah Mione, think about it." Rose motioned off into the distance with a bold hand. "The two of us come up with a way to not only get a computer to work in a charm-drenched fortress, but also summon internet access from who-knows-where, right to the Muggle Studies classroom. It would be brilliant!"

"It would be pointless! What good could come of that here? I could see you doing that back at the Weasley Burrow, but not at Hogwarts. I don't think it can be done."

"No one thought you could survive the Killing Curse and Harry did that twice," Rose said, shrugging her shoulders. "Come on, you're Muggle-born, I'm Muggle-raised. That would be something to brag about in my book. Professor Wicker would love you."

"She's encouraging you, why am I not surprised?" Both girls laughed to themselves. They started across the cloister for the door, and Hermione spoke up again. "That paper you were reading, was that the letter you got from your mum this morning?"

Rose nodded "Yeah."

"How is she doing?" The Head Girl asked.

"She's living her little life. She's still mad at me for cursing Snape out though. She hasn't yet lifted that personal embargo on my Gringotts account yet. Seriously, I finished that set of detentions, and she doesn't even know about the current one. She can forgive me now."

"She can't keep you from your money," said Hermione, referring to the fact that Rose had legally had full control of her finances for nearly two years.

"Try telling her that." Rose raised her brow and her pitch. "That pisses me off! Just when I was about to take the plunge and buy that jacket from _Witch Weekly._"

"The green one that costs twenty galleons? I thought you said that you couldn't afford it." Hermione met Rose's pace as they entered the castle.

"Oh, I changed my mind," said Rose. "I've saved enough of my dad's money. I thought that I could splurge this one time."

Hermione thought it was only polite to not push the subject further. Rose's father was a wealthy man, and she had come to find out that as part of his divorce agreement, Rose received a fair amount of money from Alistair on a biannual basis, a "trust fund" of sorts. It was nowhere near the splendor that the Irish Becketts had known, but it was enough to get by on her own. That however did not mean that Rose didn't wish she had access to her father's real money. She always had to be careful with her large purchases, and that usually came out to be books at the beginning of each term. Her frugal upbringing only reinforced this. And as an avid _Witch Weekly _reader, Rose was ever the masochist to star off items in the shopping pages, knowing that she may never have them. At least she still had some means of survival, one decent thing her father had done for her.

And now that her father was in Azkaban, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if Rose's good fortune had finally come to its end.

"Hey Barmy Beckett, why so smug?" Pansy suddenly appeared from around the corner. Malfoy took the place of her shadow, teeth bared in a malicious grin.

"Restraining order, Pansy!" Rose shouted, amused with herself. Hermione crossed Rose's path, nearly tripping up her friend to get to the Slytherin couple. "She's right, Parkinson. Come any closer and it'll be twenty points from Slytherin!"

"Shove off, Granger!" Even so, Parkinson did abide by Professor McGonagall's annoyingly new and temporary restriction and stopped where she stood. "No use in protecting your snippy little friend. She's in for a new world of hell tonight."

Rose let out her high laugh, and suddenly everyone within forty feet knew where she was. "I'm not afraid of Snape, or anything he can dish out!"

"Oh you have plenty to be afraid of, Beckett," Pansy sneered, flipping a lock of black hair away from her shrewd face. "I've heard talk that he's in one of his moods again. I could have sworn I heard him snarling your name in the hallway. Snape has it in for you, and you haven't even got a clue."

Rose was floored by such a stupid attempt to intimidate her. Snape hadn't demanded anything truly awful in weeks, and Rose was beginning to ignore his true unpredictability. She shot an obnoxious look at Hermione, who also didn't seem to find much validity in Pansy's words. Then she laughed again. "Bullshit! I haven't done a thing to deserve that. Come to think of it, I haven't heard much about Snape either. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Is Lupin so mean to you that you have to make my day worse to feel better? _You afraid of the big bad wolf, huh?_ Parkinson, you're pathetic!"

Pansy's hand shot out in Rose's direction, nails poised to slash at her face. But Hermione shoved herself forward and lightly pushed her in the opposite direction, fully asserting her powers as Head Girl. As the Slytherin slinked off down the hall, Hermione shouted that if she came near Rose again, she wouldn't hesitate to bring it to Professor McGonagall's attention. "You're not the only one who can lie around here!" she said with a pristine clarity, making damn sure the bitch and everyone else around could hear.

Rose didn't notice until she almost walked into him that Malfoy had not followed his other half. He was still leaning on the stone wall, sneering at the red-haired Gryffindor. "So you're not worried, are you Beckett?" he said with vile cock.

"Why would I be, Malfoy?" Rose asked back with calm sarcasm. "I'm not as daft as the lot of you like to think. She made all that up and you know it."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

Rose shook her head. The blonde bastard couldn't possibly be right. She hadn't heard a peep about Snape all day, or anything involving her detentions with him. But it couldn't be possible that Draco knew something that she didn't. No, of course not! He was just trying to scare her, get a sick thrill out if it. "Give it up, Malfoy. What Snape does with me is his business, not yours. Call me mad, but I'm sure he'd say that too."

"What would you know?" Malfoy started to slip into his old vicious snarl, more the Malfoy Rose was familiar with. She decided to have a little fun with the whelp while she could. She slowly crept forward and leaned up to his pale, pointed face. Her face relaxed, and her eyes softened. To a few bystanders, this approach appeared to be quite romantic except for the fact that Rose's hands hung at her sides.

"You just can't take it, can you?" she said, her quiet tone laced with spite. "You and your little tramp. You cannot accept that maybe Snape doesn't mind me that much. Maybe he's not so fond of you anymore. You're not the royalty you once thought you were. Why don't you just wake up? You can't always get what you want. So stop acting like a child and leave me and my friends alone. It would probably do you good to leave Snape alone too. You _know _how he's been lately."

"Snape'll let me get away with anything," said Malfoy. Rose smirked at that. "Is that so? Well, he hasn't been paying much attention to you, has he now?"

The blonde wizard suddenly pushed himself off the wall, his tight fist turning white at his side. His face twisted with disgust at Rose's biting words. Draco forced himself to bottle up his quick anger. She didn't even know what the hell she was talking about, and yet she was so quick to strike his core. He however would not allow himself to fight back and win with the mention of his little discussion earlier that day. And if he was thinking about anything, it was what people would think if he whipped out his wand and hexed the witch into the wall. He was a former Death Eater after all. An attack on a poor, unsuspecting woman would not be looked over by anyone. But there was no way that he could let her think she could get away with talking to him and Pansy in such a way. He and his family might have been shamed by the Dark Lord, but that didn't make their blood any less blue.

Rose stepped back as Hermione walked back to her. Draco seized the opportunity and all but charged Rose, backing her into the opposite wall. She pressed her body into the stone with a hard gaze. "You want me to quit acting like a child? Then why don't you stop pretending? I think we both know you are half the witch you think you are, and your pretense is downright maddening. You call my girl pathetic? Try looking in a mirror." He got as close to Rose's face as she had to his, gray eyes piercing her pale, expressionless features. "You ought to be ashamed, the way you soiled your family's name. Surprised Daddy Dearest didn't take his name with him."

Rose did not scrunch her face in protest, but Draco could have sworn he saw a glimmer in the corner of her eye, a glimmer that would become a glaze. Ah, was that the makings of a tear? He couldn't do much to unnerve the middle class, Muggle loving bitch, but this was satisfying enough.

A high, shrill voice called out Malfoy's name. Pansy had returned to see where he had been if not at her side. He winced at the pitch, backing away from the Gryffindor. Pansy's pug face was suspicious, as any girl would be if they came across their boyfriend mere inches from another's face. Malfoy shot a last angry glare at Rose, and then he was off. Hermione approached Rose, who was detaching herself from the wall. The two girls watched as Slytherin's most famous couple rounded the corner and disappeared.

"I don't know what we're going to do about those two," said Hermione. "This is getting ridiculous, what they're doing to you, Rose… Rose, are you crying?"

"No," Rose quietly snapped, blinking away the gleam. She shrugged her shoulders. "They're just bugs, Hermione. They're annoying when they're flying around in your face, but they can be easily squashed."

"It's like a sick and terrifically short-tempered Snape isn't bad enough for you." Rose looked at Hermione, a bit perplexed. That wasn't really the first thing she would expect to pop into her friend's mind. Hermione offered a simple solution to that. "Ron said that." Rose nodded her understanding. Hermione gently touched Rose's thin arm. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Rose let out a puff of air, a smile returning to her lips. She giggled to herself. "Funny about Ron, it would break his little heart to tell him that Snape's been so civil with me lately. And poor Malfoy would lose his mind."

**~HP~**

Severus carefully pushed open the Staffroom door, a bit afraid of who would be waiting for him on the other side. He figured that it would be a good idea to risk making an appearance before afternoon classes began, to ease some people's nerves in light of his long bouts of solitude. But at the same time, it was those very nerves that drove him to lock up in the safety of his office. Only five people were in on his secret, but with the way that they fussed over him since they found out, it might as well have been five hundred.

He was greeted by the alert stares of Pomona, Filius, and by chance and association, Cassandra. Though the doe-eyed Muggle Studies teacher was looking at him with curiosity, Severus could feel the concern radiating from his fellow Heads of House, a shiver slowly creeping down his spine. Like a long forgotten portrait in a decrepit house, their eyes followed him as he walked over to sit in front of the fire.

"Severus, just the man I wanted to see!" Cassandra rose from the table and walked over to him. Severus wasn't expecting such a lively response to his presence. He and Cassandra had not had much to do with each other in the past two weeks, not that they had much to do with each other anyway. Evidently, she had recovered from the shock of their last tea-time encounter. She also seemed to have forgiven him for his fighting words. Severus was left to wonder if the thirty-something year old witch had been dealt a good talking-to from one of their older colleagues.

"What could you possibly want with me, Wicker?" he asked.

Cassandra sat down on the couch beside him, tucking locks of brown hair behind her ear. In her hand was a roll of parchment that seemed to appear out of thin air. "I was wondering if you happened to know where Rose Beckett would be at this time of day. I've got an extra credit assignment of hers, and I wanted to see if I could give it back to her today if I knew where to find her."

Severus rolled his eyes. After that talk with Draco, he would rather put Rose Beckett out of his mind until that night, or his next class at the very least. "Rose Beckett is not one of my house. As fascinating as her daily life is, I have absolutely no idea where she goes until she turns up for my class."

"Well, I know that you've got her at night for that scuffle with that Parkinson girl. Would it be too much to ask if you could pass this on to her tonight? I would love for her to see her grade as soon as possible."

"It _would_ be too much," said Severus, trying to control his utter annoyance with the perky Wicker. "It is your job to handle the assignments you give the students, and that includes handing them back. Besides, I'm sure the brat would much rather get it from you, with the credit that you no doubt gave her."

"Severus, why must you call her that? She is a charming young lady." Cassandra said this with what sounded like a little laugh.

"You should have been there when I pulled her out of that scrap. Your favorite student sure can fight when she must." Severus shook his head. "Charming, charming indeed."

"At the very least, could you tell her that I have it and that I wish to return it to her?"

Severus nodded; that ought to get the insufferable woman out of his greasy hair. He waited for Cassandra to escape back to the relative safety of the island on the other side of the room. But she didn't budge. She simply tucked the parchment into a pocket in her dress. She then turned back to him, leaning the slightest bit closer.

"Severus," she said, her tone reinforced with honesty. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about how I acted two weeks ago, for that row we had. The things I said were totally uncalled for. I don't know what came over me, bringing up the Death Eaters like that. But I certainly don't mean to disrespect you."

"Trust me when I say that I have heard quite enough of that," said Severus. Tense hands rested in his lap.

"Fair enough, but do I have your forgiveness?"

"You might one day." Severus looked at Cassandra in time to watch her cheery smile fade. He found himself amused by this little display of discontent. If she had paid attention to the stories floating around the faculty, she probably should have expected that. Really, she called him on his loyalties for magic's sake! This woman would have to jump through hoops and then some to get into his good graces.

"Very well," said Cassandra. She lightly patted his hand, not caring to notice her boundaries. "As long as you won't hold it against me. I wouldn't want to be a burden to you in your condition."

Severus might as well have been cracked upside the head by an overeager Beater. What did she mean by his condition?! No one else was supposed to know! Sprout, Flitwick, Lupin, which one of those lying snitches was the one who told her?! His impulse was to snap his head back to where the two other professors sat, but his better instincts kept his gaze on the dying flames in the hearth.

He didn't notice Cassandra as she left him on the sofa and returned to the table. She grabbed hold of her still steaming cup of tea, and Severus heard her going on about needing to set up a projector and something about a film on the Salem Witch Trials. With a smile and a chirpy "Ta-ta," she took her leave.

"What did you tell her?" Severus snarled as he turned his upper body to look over his shoulder. Pomona just raised her eyebrows, while Filius's cup rattled into its saucer.

"Cassie?" the little wizard inquired. "I'm not sure if I know what you mean."

"That is bollocks!" Snape rose to his feet, slowly crossing over to the table. "What did she mean by that? What did she mean by _my condition_?"

"If you think that we told Cassandra about the baby, Severus, we did not." Pomona pushed away her empty cup, drumming at the wood with her fingertips.

"Oh, and how can I be so sure of that?" asked Severus, staring down his hooked nose. "A bit funny how she barely speaks to me for weeks and then suddenly sees it fit to grovel before me."

"She's wanted to apologize to you for some time. I mean, really apologize."

"Then why hasn't she?"

"Because she's intimidated by you, like so many others," said Filius. He squeezed a sliver of lemon into his tea. "Take my word for it, she felt terrible after what happened between you. But the way your temper has been recently, it's easy to see why she would be slow to come forward."

Severus forced his gaze up to the ceiling. "Be that as it may, it still doesn't explain her choice of words just now."

"Let me explain, Severus," said Pomona. "We did promise to keep your secret. But that means we have to cover for you when we must. Cassandra asked us if you were in better health. I suppose she wanted to catch you on a good day. I told her that you were on the mend, but then she asked what was wrong in the first place."

"All we said to her was that you have had some chronic health problems left over from your days with You-know-who," Filius chimed in. "And she believed it. It's a credible story if I do say so myself."

Pomona nodded her agreement. "You see, she thinks you're still recuperating, you just need time to get your strength back. The last thing she would expect is that you're pregnant."

"But that was not how this was supposed to be," objected Severus, voice hitching with aggravation. "No one was supposed to have the slightest idea that something might be wrong."

"Then you might as well wish that hundreds of people go blind," Pomona said, choking back a sarcastic laugh. Growling, Severus turned on his heel to pace across the room. His frustration was like a hard stone trapped in his stomach, tension boiling up into his temples.

"Calm yourself, Severus." Filius slid off his chair to nudge the Potions master over to the table. "All this worrying is not good for your baby."

"Who are you to say what is good for me or _my baby_?" Severus sneered, his anger laced with disgust. He suppressed the urge to trip the tiny Flitwick as he was ushered into the latter's abandoned seat. He looked up in time to see Pomona push over a plate of scones. "Don't be so nasty," she said. "He's quite right. Here, eat those. You'll need it."

Severus's stomach turned looking at those dry, flaky monstrosities. Telling him to eat again, when would it end?! He told the pestering witch that simply, he had eaten all he could stomach, his deep voice clinging to control. Pomona responded with a doubtful headshake. Severus rolled his eyes; if raging hormones didn't make him ill, this nauseating care sure would.

He retreated into his mind as he leaned in on himself, propping himself up on his elbows resting on his knees. "I don't believe you," he said, prompting looks of off-guard perplexity. "Wicker was a bit too cheery when she was talking to me. She had to have known something more."

"Severus, I highly doubt that," said Filius. "Pomona and I are quite keen on keeping our word to Albus and to you."

"Who said it had to be you?" Severus stared out of the corner of a black eye.

"Are you accusing Minerva or Remus of saying something?" Pomona asked, cocking her head in his direction. Severus sighed forcefully. "Maybe I am. Maybe one of them _accidently _let it slip to the woman. Maybe Wicker heard you two talking. I'm sure she's had plenty of opportunity these last few days."

"Who's had plenty of opportunity to do what?" The door creaked shut and Remus stood there looking rather perplexed. His gaze was drawn to the wizard hunched in the chair.

"For Prospero's sake," Severus groaned. "Don't get involved with this, Lupin." The werewolf looked behind Severus's head to Pomona with an inquiring tweak in his forehead. The older witch shook her head, right along with making a quick slash across her throat. For Remus, that was enough of a warning to catch any thought in his throat.

"Severus, would you stop with all this paranoia?" Filius spoke up again. "It wasn't healthy for you before you became pregnant, let alone now."

"It's what kept me alive!" Severus abruptly stood up to resume his nervous pacing. He felt three sets of eyes following his every step, boring into the back of his head, traveling down to the flat midsection hidden by curtains of black fabric. Again, he was under the microscope. He was under constant watch, ogled at like some long forgotten creature. And this assault of concern was wearing his sanity thin. He growled deep in his throat, clenching thin, white fingers. "Will you stop looking at me like that?!" he barked, whipping his head around. "You know, I am not some porcelain doll. So you can all stop treating me like I am about to shatter!"

"Excuse us for trying to help you!" Pomona snapped back. "We know that this is a difficult time for you and –,"

"Oh no, no, no! Don't you dare start with your pity party!" Severus slowly stalked back towards the table, index finger poised to stab Pomona's eye out. "You don't have a damn clue what I am going through. I'm already trapped in the bowels of Hell, and the three of you are suffocating me!"

"But –,"

"No, don't even! I don't want to hear it."

"Severus, calm down," said Remus reaching out to touch the wizard's shoulder. But Severus jerked his body away. "Don't touch me! Fuck off, Lupin!" Ignoring the stunned man before him, the furious Severus made a quick move for the door. He knew he had lost control. He also knew that he had to get away if he had any hope of regaining it. He had to escape back to his office as quickly as possible. Yes, get as far away from those twats as he could, for as long as possible. Just ignore the students and every maddening thing they did, and he could come down from this by next class.

But he couldn't count on the first thing he saw upon yanking the door open being Hannah Abbott up against the wall, _innocently _wrapped in the arms of one Ernie Macmillan.

**~HP~**

Hermione and Rose were suddenly distracted by the sound of commotion and livid shouts. They listened hard to what was actually going on, but could only make out the distant noise of deep snarling, words lost with the distance. Hermione gulped, hoping those snarls were as familiar to Rose as they were to her. But it didn't concern them, this time they were the nosy bystanders. So the two Gryffindor girls, as confused as they were intrigued, continued on their way. But neither of them were prepared to be nearly trampled by Hannah Abbott as she came squealing around the corner.

"Oi, Hannah, watch it!" Rose shouted, jumping out of the Hufflepuff's way. Hannah looked back briefly, panic swiped across her face. "Sorry Beckett!" she shouted, more a cry than an apology. She soon disappeared into the nearby corridor, attracting stares the whole way.

"What's gotten into her?" asked Rose as she and Hermione continued walking.

"I dunno," said the Head Girl. "I suppose it's got something to do with whatever is going on up there." Hermione knew that she had certain duties to adhere to as Head Girl, one of which was to investigate any hoopla that reached her ears. And thankfully for her, Rose understood this. Hermione led the way, her roommate a short distance behind. They parted the crowds heading both toward and away from the ruckus. They came around the corner to where the staffroom door hung open on its hinges.

Snape stood out in front of that door. He looked like some kind of animal, teeth gnashing against a harsh hissing for breath, and his bony knuckles white with tension. His face was ghostly white, though that did not disguise the vein throbbing just above his high collar. Children scattered about the area, little ones taking refuge behind their older, bolder, braver counterparts. Others were taking any opportunity to run away as fast as they could. It seemed that they had all interrupted Snape in the midst of an epic tantrum. No, actually it looked bigger than epic.

"You heard me!" Snape shouted, snarling at anyone unfortunate enough to get close. "Get out of here, all of you, or it will be thirty points from _every last one of you! _That is not a threat, Reilly, don't you dare smirk at me! Ten points from Ravenclaw. I heard that, Dollen! I'm a crazy berk, am I? You want to say that to my face?! Twenty points from Hufflepuff! What don't any of you understand by leave now?! I'll have your heads if you don't quit staring and start walking!"

"What in the hell?" Hermione gasped, strangely rapt by the professor's sheer, unadulterated rage. She took shelter behind a group of Ravenclaw girls, watching the outburst from a safe distance. Hermione's attention was so engrossed that she failed to notice how Rose had not followed her lead, and that her friend stood stiffly in the hall.

"Oh shit…"

"What do you think did it this time?" Hermione's voice was low enough for Rose, a bare three feet away, to hear while keeping a certain level of privacy.

"Fuck, fuck, Malfoy was right!" said Rose, caught between a shocked gasp and a panicked hiss.

"Rose?" Hermione inquired, turning her face to her. Rose's eyes were the size of dinner plates and were locked on Snape. Terror swept through every bit of her being. Snape was in another extraordinary, unexplained rage, just as her sworn enemies had predicted. And with the recent history that she had with the wizard, she knew that she could not risk a damn thing. "I've gotta get out of here!" she exclaimed, struggling to keep attention off of herself. She turned, her feet already in momentum to make her getaway.

"But Rose –,"

"No! Don't say my name. Don't let him hear you." Now Rose was running, swiftly as to reduce the sound of her footsteps. "I'll see you later."

Hermione called out, confused. "Rose, wait!"

"_Beckett!_"

Ugly skid marks stretched across the floor to where Rose's shoes had come to their untimely stop. Rose froze at the growl that was supposed to be her last name, her face scrunched up and her eyes pressed shut. The sound of voices and shuffling behind her warned her of Snape's slow approach. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" she whispered to herself.

"What was that?" Snape bit out.

"Nothing," said Rose, speaking up and pushing down distress. "Yes Professor?"

"Look at me!" Rose could hear Snape tapping his boot on the stone. She cautiously turned back around, putting on her expected brave face. He was some six feet away from her, staring at her like she had committed some kind of cardinal sin according to the book of Snape. "About your detention tonight,"

"Yes sir?"

"I want to see you in front of my desk at five thirty, and not a minute later!"

"What?! No!" the student protested with a screech. Five thirty was absolutely outrageous, even by Snape's standards. The way she saw it, her _entire night_ was now going to be spent in a dank dungeon. She was going to slave the night away because Snape needed a punching bag. It was totally and completely unfair! "That barely gives me two hours after class! And when am I supposed to eat?!"

"Silence, Beckett!" Snape shouted. "Five thirty, no excuses!"

"But that's not fair!" Rose made quite a risky move by stepping closer to the fuming wizard until she stared up into the black holes he called eyes. She could feel great puffs of forced air against her face. Snape glared down at her, and suddenly Rose's plan for defense was forgotten. She gulped in spite of herself, realizing how stupid she had been.

"Beckett, unless you wish to have your hair scorched again, get out of my face."

Rose backed away, yelping and grabbing at the ends of her locks. Other girls were doing the same thing, though Snape likely would not have noticed. Rose was speechless, her instinct to defend herself rendered useless by her helpless confusion. "I didn't do anything!" Now she was pleading.

"Do you honestly think that I care?" Snape sneered venomously. His right hand was clenching up, missing the grip on his wand.

"Professor Snape!"

"Shut up!"

Just then, Lupin dashed over from the staffroom and threw himself between the exasperated wizard and the flustered witch. He pushed Snape back with a firm arm. "That's enough, Severus! Settle down, now," he commanded. He looked around at the frozen groups of quivering children, at the shocked Hermione Granger and poor Rose Beckett. "All of you, off with you now!" he shouted. "Classes will be starting again soon. Miss Beckett, I apologize, but I suggest you listen to Professor Snape. Five thirty tonight." Hermione quickly glided over to Rose, nudging her to get her walking. Both girls were soon running in the direction of the stairs, escaping any more trouble that could be undeservingly thrown at them. The other kids decided to follow their example and set off in all their various paths. The DADA professor made damn sure that no one was within immediate reach before he turned back to Snape.

The Potions master was breathing hard, but his gaze was turned inward. He was trying to calm himself down at last. He turned to leave, staring down at the floor, not caring to look up at anyone. Remus carefully turned Severus in the direction of the stairs that would take him back to his lair. Wanting to be sure that he was alright, the werewolf followed a short ways behind.

"So it is now your duty to do my job as well?" Severus said as he stopped by the steps, his back turned.

"I can't let an innocent student be thrown to the lions," said Remus. He waited for Severus to turn to face him, but was quick to realize that this was wishful thinking. "You alright now? You okay to teach?"

"Just tell Albus not to worry when I don't show up for dinner. Make something up, like I caught Beckett using obscene language again."

Remus nodded. "I can do that." And with a long sigh, Severus set off down the winding stairs. Remus also sighed, relieved that little episode was over. He felt bad, those unlucky children on the wrong end of that temper. He felt worse for Filius and Pomona, whatever they did to trigger it. But he couldn't have felt worse for anyone than for Severus himself. To be a slave to your hormones like that, it had to be horrendous for the poor guy. Remus just hoped that Severus would end up like his Nymphadora and balance out as the weeks went by.

Before he returned upstairs to prepare his lesson on poltergeists for the Third years, Remus decided to make a quick trip down to the dungeons. Not to further pester Severus, that man needed some time alone before his next class. It was the first place he thought to look for Pansy Parkinson. Since Rose was going to be doing some hard time tonight, it seemed appropriate that the Slytherin did the same. Their detentions, after all, were a packaged deal of sorts. He had nothing to warrant a five thirty call time, but he could insist on _three_ hundred and fifty lines. He ought to tell her to come up at seven instead of eight to give her a head start. He chuckled to himself.

Snape wasn't the only one who could play dirty.

**~HP~**

_**As you can probably tell, the main problem with Severus's pregnancy is that it makes him a raging emotional wreck. I promise that this is the last major blow-up for a while. And we finally got Draco involved! Look for him to have more involvement in future chapters.**_

_**Keep on reading and reviewing! Thank you!**_


	16. It's the hero who loses the most

**__****__****__****__****__****____****Hey folks, I just wanted to warn the lot of you that the next few chapters are going to be made up of a lot of exposition, which I know some of you may find boring. However, it is for the benefit of character development, and there's not a great deal I can do about that, is there? They've been done for a long time, I've got them all backlogged, and I want to get them up quickly so as to get it over with. Just bear with me and hang on for the ride.**

**__****__****__****__****__****____****Enjoy!**

**__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

She was scowling and grumbling when she got there, but Rose showed up at Snape's classroom at five thirty. Beyond her quiet mutterings, she didn't have much to say to her professor. And with the terse tone she used the few times she actually addressed him, it seemed that she had no intentions for small talk. An injustice like that, she thought, who would? She probably should have known better than to get comfortable with him, get lulled into that stupid routine.

Now quite subdued, Severus was able to have enough self-control to leave her to her extra work. He had decided to follow through on his promise to Draco and ordered that Rose peel the wads of chewing gum off the undersides of the desks, without any utensils, just her finely manicured fingernails. Rose had responded by staring at him like he had sprouted a second head. That had to be the most disgusting thing she had done in that room, and that was saying a lot. She only agreed after Snape assured her that he would provide her with a Sterilizing Potion after she had finished.

"Holy fuck, does Goyle have a smoking problem?!" groaned Rose from on her hands and knees under the Slytherin's desk, tearing off the twenty-seventh piece of hardened yuck and tossing it into the rubbish basket.

"Watch your mouth, Miss Beckett," said Snape. "You're lucky that you didn't lose any points earlier."

'_I'm lucky that you never got hold of your wand,'_ Rose thought to herself. She was still a bit shaken up, a bit grateful that her hair was left unsinged. She wasn't going to try her luck with Snape, doing her best to keep her words to herself. That was proving to be harder and harder with every tacky, saliva smeared gob that left itty bitty specks under her nails. She tasted her own sick at the idea. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Malfoy had something to do with this, that bloody little Chihuahua of a girlfriend probably biting his leg the whole time. She would have to get him back somehow, when she thought of something awful and sneaky enough to get away with. Each time she ripped off a chunk of gum, she imagined she was ripping off a bit of Malfoy's face.

Snape watched on, seeing the struggle in her face and listening to the light grunts. But strangely, he wasn't relishing in the Gryffindor's revolted misery. He did not have the slightest clue why he had lashed out at her in the first place. His frayed emotions had gotten the best of him again. But once he had come down from that fit of hormone-induced fury, he realized just how irrational and unmerited he had been. He had no control over himself, and Rose had to bear the brunt of it. And now he regretted it.

He rather enjoyed his conversations with her, however short they were. She had done a marvelous job at distracting him from his troubles, from the child growing deep inside him. She was a very small comfort, but it was a comfort that Severus could accept. And in a sea of insufferable Gryffindor scum, Beckett was a breath of air. In fact, even with her sharp tongue and annoying tenacity, he was actually becoming quite fond of her. Now he feared that snapping at her had set him back to where they started, if her hostility towards him in class was any indication.

Rose had been picking and peeling for just half an hour when hunger began to rear its ugly head. She could not stop herself from thinking about the splendid food that her friends were feasting on upstairs. She thought of the kitchens, mere yards away, and her mouth watered. She tried to stay focused on her nasty chore, but she flushed red when her stomach betrayed her with a soft growl. She nervously looked at Snape, who just seemed to disregard her embarrassment. Still, she tried to muffle the sound by wrapping an arm around her torso.

Sometime later, Snape gently cleared his throat, getting Rose's attention. She crawled out from under a desk in the back. "Having trouble?" asked Snape.

"I've broken two nails, if you call that trouble." Rose shrugged, her voice still stiff, but weakened.

The greasy professor looked down into the basket at the girl's gross little collection. "Well, you have been at it for an hour or so. I suppose that's enough torture for one evening."

"I'm done for the night?"

"Of course not," said Snape, finding the look on Rose's face to be quite funny. He was rewarded with a huff of hot breath. "What I mean to say is that I will allow you to use tools to finish the job. You finished Goyle's desk by hand. I'm not one to admit this, but that takes nerves of steel."

Rose got to her feet, a subtle smile tugging at tight lips. "Thank you, Professor. Now, about that potion you promised…"

Snape's wand swished through the air so quickly that Rose couldn't follow it. Not five seconds later, a jar was in her hands. "A word of advice, Miss Beckett," said Snape. "Brew a large batch for yourself. It keeps well. You never know when it will come in handy. Just open a window if you choose to make it in your dormitory."

Rose again thanked her professor and unscrewed the top, setting the jar down beside the sink. She spent a good four minutes with the tips of her fingers submerged in the ice-blue mixture, until she was sure she had killed all the bacteria left behind by her peers. Then she poured out short streams over her hands. Thoroughly cleansed, she reached for the bar of soap. The one flaw with Sterilizing Potions was that they smelt no better than Muggle products. Rose quickly dabbed her hands dry, and then went into a drawer to retrieve a knife.

_*Pop*_

Rose might have stabbed herself in the foot if she had not had hold of the handle. Off guard and possibly having a heart attack, she looked around. Two house-elves had barged in, the way that they did out of thin air. They were each lifting a covered tray up onto Snape's desk. The wizard acknowledged them with a brief nod, and then the elves vanished as suddenly as they had appeared. "Before you start that," said Snape, coaxing Rose closer.

"What's this about?" she asked.

"Professor McGonagall and I made arrangements for you to take your dinner down here. She thought it might be difficult to concentrate with your mind in the kitchens." Severus conveniently left out how it was originally his idea. Most could call it pity. He called it a peace offering for a long night of servitude. Besides, if Beckett was anything like her father, well-fed meant happy and cooperative. "I have to eat anyway, and I sure as hell wasn't going to leave you here alone."

Rose approached as he lifted the covers off the trays. It was hot roast beef for them tonight, along with steamy carrots and a good helping of mashed potatoes. Snape noticed Rose swallow the saliva filling her mouth. She grabbed the warm plate and her goblet, and then retreated to the nearest desk, coming back only for her knife and fork. While Severus was careful and slow in his eating, Rose just about attacked her meat. She looked like a closeted carnivore. Merlin, she really was hungry! Already, Rose looked much more relaxed, soothed by her own chewing.

What a relief, Severus thought.

"I really appreciate this, sir," said Rose, stabbing a piece of beef. Snape shook his head. "Well, what else could I have done after that pathetic begging of yours?"

"Isn't it obvious? I thought that you would let me starve."

"And be stuck with you and your stomach growling at me all night? I think not." Snape avoided Rose's glance, instead staring down at the food he was pushing around his plate. Rose looked at him, as subtle as she was curious. "Professor, can I ask you something?" Snape nodded his permission. "Why are we here now? What did I do to get into trouble?"

Snape sighed. The girl was a witch who lived up to her house's name. Already knowing that she was not a coward, he realized rather early on that she would be seeking an explanation before night's end. At least she was going about it in a polite manner, a stark contrast to many before her. "You wish to hear the truth?" he asked.

"Please,"

Snape fiddled with his fork, twisting it around in his potatoes. He could make something up, but Rose was smarter than that. "You did nothing." He thought that Rose would be surprised to hear that, but the young Gryffindor was unmoved. She simply chomped down on her carrot-laden fork. "But then why did you scream at me like that in front of everybody?"

"Because you happened to be there."

"But…but…I…" Rose stammered, the confusion setting in.

"You wanted to know the truth, didn't you?" That did the trick. Rose shut her mouth again, silencing herself further with her next forkful. Snape leaned on his desk. "If you must know, I was not in my right mind this afternoon. I was overly frustrated with things that you have no business knowing about, and I took it out on the students."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Rose. "But sir, that –,"

"I know, Miss Beckett, it was not fair. Imagine what it was like for me to realize just how unprofessional I acted." Severus rolled his eyes as he sliced off a small piece of beef, carefully placing it in his mouth.

Rose raised her eyebrows. "So you _do _realize it."

"Only because I knew I had virtually no control of myself," Snape said on an exhale. "If I had been able to think more clearly, I would have done my best to ignore you. I suppose you could call yourselves rather fortunate that I was calm for class. I am still surprised that all of you cooperated the way that you did. I don't think I've ever seen a NEWT class so quiet."

"You must have been in a bad place," said Rose. "I haven't seen someone get so angry in a really long time."

"It's difficult to explain." Snape hid behind the brim of his goblet, cringing at the taste. Just when did pumpkin juice become so nasty? Known to be pregnant for only a few days, and already his palate was changing.

Rose couldn't help but wonder what her teacher meant. What was difficult? Theory upon theory rushed on through, but there wasn't a snowflake's chance in Hell that she could think about pursuing them. She had worked herself into Snape's almost-good graces. Why would she ruin that with a week and a half ahead of her? "Oh…um…alright then." She turned her attention back to her meal.

Snape ran a hand down his face as though the girl were shamelessly guilting him into what she really wanted. "Look here, Miss Beckett," he said, and she did. He looked at her with soft integrity. "Listen, I let my stress get the best of me, I dealt with it in the wrong way, and I am sorry that you had to get caught up in that."

Rose was quiet, rummaging around her mind for words. For half a second, she thought that she must have heard wrong. "But why?" she finally asked. "A month ago, you wanted me out of here."

"Because unlike some people, you are actually rather tolerable," Snape explained. "More tolerable than many of your acquaintances, even. You are a walking sign post for your insufferable house, but at least you are not so upfront with it. And I don't believe I can help myself to say that you do know my trade. It isn't very often that I come across students as well-rounded in potion-making as you and Granger."

"What are you saying?" Rose leaned closer to his desk.

"I'm saying that you are not as much a thorn in my side as you once were. Do yourself a favor, and keep that to yourself. I couldn't handle the state of sheer rebellion from my house if they were to hear that."

Rose was surprised, even if she couldn't tell if it was good or bad. It was a compliment if she ever heard one. She was not one of the simpering idiots anymore; she heard it from the man himself! A soft stream of pride flowed through her, delighted that Snape finally saw her as she felt she deserved to be seen. She looked back at Snape and noticed that he still had not eaten nearly as much as she had. The swell of satisfaction was relieved by concern.

"I'm sorry that I got in your way, Professor," she said. "And I'm sorry that you were in such a terrible mood." Snape just nodded, his face long and drained of color. He set his fork down, prompting Rose to do the same. The young witch felt a clench of sympathy in her ribs, and she rung her fingers nervously. "Life hasn't been easy lately, has it?"

Snape looked up at her. "What?"

"The stress, the publicity, you were ill. That has to be hard. You know, I don't say this as much as I probably should, but it takes a lot in a person to live like that. Don't get me wrong, I've had my own share of bad times recently. But after what's happened to you, I cannot imagine how you get through each day."

'_If you only knew the truth,' _Severus thought. He had to hand it to her, she had the right idea. Even if the rape had never happened, if his unborn fetus did not exist, he had his doubts that his days would have been any more bearable. "You are not the first person to say things of that sort. You say that you don't say it as much as you like?"

"With people gossiping about you, someone has to stick up for you."

"Enlighten me. Not that I'm surprised by it, but why haven't you?" Snape asked, quite suspicious.

Rose's voice faltered. "It isn't that I don't think you deserve all the respect in the world, because you do. I've been saying that for months, maybe longer. But I…I do have a reputation to look after."

"Reputation," Snape sneered. "Is that what you call it?"

Rose shook her head. "Hey, I have one. It's just a matter if you choose to see it. I might be just tolerable to you. But to quite a few people, I'm worth the chat. Ask any of my housemates and they'll tell you that I'm friendly and reliable."

"So I've heard. I haven't heard anything less come out of that blasted Muggle Studies classroom." Rose looked at Snape with a suddenly weaker glance. That's when he remembered that little mention of bad days. In years gone by, Rose had lived to be the apple of Charity Burbage's eye. It was unlikely that the witch's death would go un-mourned by her most favorite student. Out of respect for Burbage, he dismissed any further comment.

"Anyway," Rose continued. "I get along well with most people, and I always have. But these are testy times, and people talk. I just don't want to do anything that would upset that."

"Of course you don't. A Gryffindor such as yourself, now part of Potter's entourage, coming to the defense of a dejected, former Death Eater. Wouldn't that be a disgrace?" The snarl curled Snape's lip, exposing crooked teeth.

"I don't mean it that way," Rose tried to explain, keeping a firm hold on her tone.

"How else could you mean it?" Snape challenged. "It is perfectly clear to me. You care too much about what people think of you. You stop yourself from speaking your mind because you always want stay the sweet little lady they have deemed you."

"Oh I speak my mind," said Rose. "But in spite of that, I hate to be disliked, for any reason. I may want to speak up for what I really think, but in doing so, I would be asking for confrontation. All I can say is that I avoid it when I can."

Snape pushed away his half-eaten meal and propped his head up on the desk. He massaged his temples. "You know Beckett; you have to be smoking something to think I will be sympathetic to your plight. You whimper about dislike to the most hated soul in the castle."

"Oh c'mon Professor, that's not true," Rose tried to reason.

"Don't start with me, Beckett. It is true and we both know it." Snape slammed a heavy fist down on the aged wood. The plates and the girl both jumped and shuttered. "I'm just trying to help," Rose admitted earnestly. "I didn't think that it bothered you."

"You insolent children assume a lot."

"You mean it does?"

"It didn't until recently." The Gryffindor looked at the Potions master with raised eyebrows, trying her best not to appear flabbergasted. "Don't look at me like that," Snape droned.

"I'm sorry, sir," Rose promptly turned her attention onto her last few bites of meat and potato. She swallowed the tension in her throat, wishing that she could tell if Snape was angry at her, or if she had simply re-provoked his old frustrations. "Is there anything I can do?" She wondered if such a question was the right idea under her circumstances.

Snape sighed, slowly tapping the wood of his desk. "Just continue to be as well-mannered as you are now. It helps to know that I don't have to manage your aggravating classmates, and then come here and fight you."

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Rose, tucking the last of her food into her mouth.

"Why would I want to talk about anything with you?" The wizard asked back with a lazy sneer.

"Because I'll listen." Rose was quick to respond, sure of herself and her choices. Snape saw this in both her face and her thoughts. But that didn't make him any less uncomfortable. He saw a young woman who was tired of reading the papers and listening to lunch table talk. He saw a young woman who was looking for firsthand answers. "It's okay, Professor, I won't tell anyone. Not even Hermione. I wouldn't want to betray your trust like that."

'_Damn, it's like she can hear my thoughts.' _Severus was smarter than to so willingly unload his troubles onto someone as insignificant as a student. Yet some inner voice of his was dying to be heard, weeks of built up angers and unspoken stress. He had plenty of opportunities to unleash them on his mad old headmaster and his band of supporters, but Rose's quiet demeanor seemed more welcoming. "You think my life has been anything but easy since the Dark Lord's downfall,"

"Yes?"

"Well, you don't even know the half of it."

Rose got up to set her cleaned plate onto Snape's desk, looking at him with heavy eyes. She held onto her half-empty goblet and sat on top of the desk she had vacated. "I can imagine," she said. But Snape shook his head adamantly. "No Beckett, I don't think you can."

"Let me finish," Rose raised a pointing little finger off her goblet, taking a sip. "I fought in that war too, I did my part. But I didn't have to face You-know-who on a regular basis. That had to be hell."

"The Dark Lord was always one to cause someone misery, even those close to him."

"More than that, from what I've heard," said Rose, light brows wrinkling at the thought. "For heaven's sake, he tried to kill you!"

Oh, she had to bring that up! "And you don't know how close he came to succeeding. Potter was not kidding when he told the papers that those healers practically brought me back from the dead." Rose's jaw eased open. Not enough to attract flies, but just enough to give away her astonishment. Snape continued. "I know, miraculous to say the least. But I will be honest with you, so you better hold up on that promise of yours. I have had my moments when I wish I had not survived."

"Why not?"

"Because perhaps it would have been easier to die than to go on with such a miserable existence."

Now Rose found herself disturbed and a bit saddened. "Oh Professor Snape…"

"Don't sugarcoat the truth. I was saddled with a retched life, and I was never given a chance for anything better. Even when God and everyone else in our world knows that I strived to do what I thought was right, nothing changed. At least if I had died, then I would have been spared all of that unbelievable, relentless pain. Surely, you could understand that."

Rose shook her head, her eyes travelling up Snape's frail frame. "I really wish I could. I was in hospital for only a few days. You were there for weeks."

"I was _here _for weeks. Try to recover from near-fatal injuries while they are trying to rapidly rebuild a castle around you." Snape followed Rose's gaze to his covered neck. He compulsively adjusted his high collar. Caught in the act, Rose forced herself to stare down at the floor, letting go of a deep sigh. The increasingly tired Potions master also sighed, feeling every ache in his body. "As you can imagine, I would have preferred to be left in peace. But the Ministry would never let that happen."

"They really shouldn't have arrested you. Not after what you did for us during the war. I thought they would have honored you as the hero you were."

"But you still thought that I had killed Dumbledore, didn't you?"

Rose coughed on pumpkin juice, clutching at her breastbone as the tight pain twisted down into her chest. "Professor, I –,"

"Answer me,"

The young witch was cautious, taking a moment to catch her breath again. "I believed what Harry told us. He said that he saw you cast the killing curse. If he told everyone that Dumbledore was alive all along, I probably would have believed him then too, eventually I mean."

"Potter didn't know any more than anyone else. That plan would not have worked if it did not stay between only the headmaster and myself."

"It was a brilliant plan," said Rose

"Too brilliant!" Snape snarled, more at the air than the girl across from him. "Because of that blasted old man, I was almost sent to prison for life!"

"He got you out in time," Rose tried to calm down the touchy man. "It was an honest mistake. The Minister didn't know."

"He should have," he growled. Now feeling tension pain in his temples, Snape clenched his fist white. "Never would have happened if the mad codger had listened to what I had to say."

"He just wanted what was best."

"You say that like you know Dumbledore closely." Severus tried to sip from his own goblet, but nearly choked at the taste. He shoved it away violently. "Ah, this is disgusting! I can't take it anymore!"

Rose brought up a careful hand. "If you don't want it, I'll drink it," she said. Snape waved her on. "Be my guest!"

Rose quickly exchanged Snape's goblet for her now empty one, and was back on her desk in seconds. "Alright, so let's think of it this way. Dumbledore knew that you did not deserve to live out your life in Azkaban, he convinced the Wizengamot of the same."

"He still cannot change their opinions," said Snape, his voice falling low.

"But you didn't really kill him."

"Minor details, Beckett. Most of them wanted me in prison because they thought I should have been sent there seventeen years ago. Again, no matter what I do, I am still the devious, manipulating Death Eater."

"Those people are idiots," Rose shrugged her shoulders. But Snape responded with a drained glare. "Insult half our world, why don't you?"

"I don't care how many people I have to insult, it isn't right."

Snape buried his face in his hands. "So says the girl who cannot speak up for me for fear of what fourteen year-olds will say."

"It isn't like that, Professor. It's complicated."

"Why is it complicated?" asked Snape. "Is it because too many of the students agree with their parents? Is it because many of them openly wish that I was never pardoned, that I never lived? Is it because you fear that they will take on anyone with the gall to back me up, and you cannot risk that?"

Rose felt the knot in her throat. Snape never ceased to catch her off guard. But she never thought that she would be speechless because she was upset, not at him, but for him. Her whole Wizarding life, she had assumed that Snape had the toughest skin of any man in Britain. He really was the most hated man at Hogwarts, and she always thought that it never had any effect. Hell, she thought he liked the loathing! But now, unbiased and open-minded, she silently cursed herself for such childish thoughts. This was a man, not a monster.

"It still isn't right," she repeated. Just to give herself something to do in the knife-cutting discomfort, she carefully pulled the ribbon from her hair. She slowly wrapped the red strand around her thin fingers, easily tossing back long red locks with a free hand.

"What are the odds, Miss Beckett?" Snape meekly replied. "You and what, two or three of your friends, against hundreds from three other houses?"

"It would be worth a shot."

"I seriously doubt that." The Potions master rolled his deep, dark eyes away from the passive Gryffindor.

"Tell me, sir. Why does it bother you so much?" Rose asked ever so quietly. "They're just kids. Kids say things without thinking first. You're a teacher, you know that."

"It's one thing to have blundering simpletons calling me a biased bastard or slimy git when they think I can't hear them. I'm used to that." Snape was rubbing his temples again. "But to have the nerve to think it's alright to call me a wicked traitor, without consideration…" He trailed off, pressing his eyes shut. His knuckles turned white as his face flushed. Calmly, Rose instructed Snape to take a deep breath, and though it took a few long seconds, he obeyed. Snape wiped the faint layer of sweat off his forehead.

Rose stuffed the red ribbon into her pocket and hopped off the desk, grabbing the empty goblet in front of her teacher. She walked over to the sink to fill it up. He might not have appreciated the pumpkin juice, but a glass of water certainly would not do him any harm. She brought it to him without a word, and placed it right in front of him. She tucked her hands behind her back, waiting for a response.

"Thank you, Miss Beckett," said Snape, and like that, she was back on the desk. He gulped down a mouthful of the cold liquid, his body relaxing again. He looked back at Rose, who had her chin resting in her hands on her knees. He sighed and he looked to the ceiling.

"In any case, it's maddening to have been revealed as Dumbledore's man, and yet somehow, that doesn't mean a thing to one too many mindless teenagers. Even more maddening still is that I know these people probably will never take me seriously. I don't even know why I'm venting to you, _you _of all people. You are a Gryffindor. You are friends with that damn Dream Team. You are sitting there nodding your head and frowning like you understand. But why would you when no one has ever had reason to question your loyalties."

He looked down, expecting to see that same pathetic little sulk. But he was surprised at how the Beckett girl was glaring back at him. Her mouth was tight and her glare was sharp. Had he said something to suddenly offend her? It was true.

"Loyalties?" she asked, calm voice suddenly tense. "No one's ever questioned _my _loyalties? Are you kidding me? You know, Professor, not everyone who's ever been in Gryffindor has been an untouchable saint. We just came out of the most tumultuous pure-blood madness our world has ever known, and I'm half-blood. Do you know how hard it was to openly admit that my favorite class was Muggle Studies, setting myself up for criticism or worse? My whole life here, I've had to defend that my heart was with our people first. But did they listen? Oh no, sir! And the only thing that made it worse was that the proof of my magical blood wasn't too keen on backing me up. Lord knows my father wasn't going to risk the honor of blood and Slytherin for me."

Snape shook his head, half to himself. "Beckett, I have heard this all before. You're a half-blood with ties to the Muggle world. You don't exactly follow in your father's footsteps. Witches and wizards have struggled with the same issues for centuries."

"Here, look!" Rose snapped. She yanked up her sleeve, sailing across to the head desk and shoving her bare forearm foreword. Her inner arm was pale and smooth, but Snape would have to be blind to miss the ugly blemish between her elbow and her wrist. Two darkened marks, an inch or two from each other, the lasting impressions of deep burns. Snape's obsidian eyes thinned as he stared at these old injuries.

"You know what those are?" said Rose. Snape suppressed a shutter; he did. "Alecto Carrow did that when I had the nerve to speak up in that joke of a class of hers. She said I had no business with Muggles, except to use them in a little game of target practice. They were useless, and so I was useless. She rather enjoyed scorching me with her wand, and I wasn't the only one. Don't even get me started on the other things she did to us. To make myself very clear, don't you ever accuse me of not being in your place, of not understanding that kind of judgment, because I have and I do!"

Severus couldn't speak. The girl had awakened the memories of the horrendous things every student was subjected to, all except the privileged Slytherins. He remembered the harrowing cries of unlucky victims of the Cruciatus Curse, those that fought for their life and limb in alleged detentions. Even someone like Rose Beckett, someone who had never stuck out from the crowds, bore the scars of these tortures. But he just let it happen, ignored their cries for help, just barely kept them all alive. Guilt began to weigh down an already heavy mind.

"I apologize, Miss Beckett. I see your point. But at the very least, you were spared that criticism on such a grand scale. You don't have every wizard looking at you oddly every time you walk down a street."

Rose rolled down her sleeve, again hiding her burn marks. "I've felt it at times."

"That's just teenaged paranoia." Snape felt his stomach give a slow turn, summoning his hand up for a comforting rub. He forgot that Rose was looking right at him. "Are you okay?" she asked. He nodded her off, grateful that he had been spared the foreboding metallic taste. "You didn't seriously believe the people who said you didn't deserve your job back, did you?"

"Doesn't everyone have their weak moments?" said Snape.

"But Dumbledore obviously thought you have a great deal of worth. He did invite you back, after all. And the rest of the teachers seem to agree."

"As I told one of my students this morning, I only accepted the offer because there isn't much more to my life than Hogwarts. I wasn't exactly getting other job offers, and I couldn't stay locked up for the rest of my life, as much as I would have liked that."

"I like to think that the headmaster gave you your job back because he knows you've made an impact on other people's lives," said Rose. "You certainly made an impact on mine. I wouldn't be half the potioneer I am now if Slughorn had taught us from the beginning. I always credit it to both my own skill and your classes. And it didn't really matter to you who my father was, or my uncle or cousin or some other Beckett that I don't know." She smiled, and was relieved to see the smirk Snape gave her in return. "You're an evil bastard, but you're good at what you do."

"If only it were that simple." Snape stopped short of anything too deep and invasive. He still could not trust Rose enough to even consider getting into that nonsense. Besides, he could only assume that she had already cornered Potter to hear that story.

Rose came even closer and leaned on his desk. "Hey, hang in there. I know it's tough. I wanted to go home last summer and just disappear. But it's worth it, believe me. Just look how far you've come. It's all worth it. There are folks out there calling you a hero. Just pay attention to them." She quietly collected together the plates, silverware, and empty goblets. "If you're not feeling well tonight, I can go if you want."

"Not so quick, Miss Beckett," said Snape. "Nice try, but you are not yet finished under those desks." Rose huffed, though with a smirk, and reached for her discarded knife. She disappeared under the wooden isle of Thomas and Finnigan.

Severus felt surprisingly relaxed, the blood flowing to his head with no trouble or tension. His stomach was still a little upset, but that would pass. This must be how it felt after a session with one of those Muggle therapists. How could it be that the girl's optimism could be irritating in their day to day lives, and still be exactly what he needed when it was just them? Severus decided that since she helped lower his alarming blood pressure, he could accept that optimism. After all, she took his miserable post-war experiences, and tried to spin it in his favor. He was almost tempted to tell her that his illness was in fact morning sickness, just to see of what she could make of a pregnant wizard. It wasn't going to happen over his dead body, but Severus still felt that she would at least try to turn it into something good, as strange as it might be to her. Who taught her how to do that? Was it Granger? Burbage? That Muggle mother of hers?

"Oh, Miss Beckett," said Snape, his memory suddenly jogged. Rose turned to him, mid-pry. "Professor Wicker was looking for you earlier. She wanted me to tell you that she has that extra credit essay for you."

"She does?" Rose smiled. "Well, when you see her in the morning, tell her that I'll pick it up after first class."

"I cannot guarantee that, but I will try."

"Did she say anything about my grade?"

"No, and I wouldn't have cared anyway." Snape half-rolled his eyes. "Though judging from the look on her face, I would say you did rather well."

"Thank Merlin," sighed Rose. "I spent a whole Sunday writing that."

"Why? From what I hear, you don't need the credit. What was that essay on anyway?"

"It was an in-depth analysis of the pros and cons of the left and right wings of Muggle Parliament."

Snape cocked an amused black eyebrow, unable to resist. "Hmm, that being said, which side do you agree with?"

"The Ministry of Magic. Nice try to you, Professor, but I'm not taking that bait." Against his better judgment, Snape decided to let that one cheek slide.

**~HP~**

_**Slowly but surely, the wall is coming down, brick by brick. It's from here that Severus's relationship with Rose changes, and this is the role she fills for the next several chapters. I would say more, but as the great Alan Rickman hath put it, I would be giving away some plot.**_

_**Keep up the reading, and reviews are welcome!**_


	17. Autumn winds and fallen leaves

_**Hey readers, here's another chapter that focuses on Rose, and more specifically, her past. My abiding memory of writing this chapter was that I wrote it in just under three days, and at six thousand words or so, that's a personal record, and I have yet to top it. So glad to finally put it out there to see if that speed was a good thing.**_

**__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Rose didn't know what to make of herself. It wasn't like the former Death Eater to give endearing confessions to just any person, and yes, she did still feel like she was just any person in Snape's eyes. It was miraculous enough that he now spoke to her like the adult that she was. And though it seemed they had both accepted the casual one on one chats, it never went beyond an unspoken boundary on Snape's part. Rose's respect for him kept her in her place. So there was no way she could have foreseen such a deep dinnertime conversation with the Potions master.

She figured that Snape would eventually open up about the unseen aftermath of the war. But she never thought that she would be on the receiving end. Her, not one of his own students! It would be pretty hard to be annoyed with him after that, no matter how much reason she had. Seeing Snape like that tugged on her heartstrings. How could a man be so vulnerable and hide it so well? But while it saddened her to put him in that place, she didn't exactly regret it. She knew that he did not want her pity; he just needed to be heard. He had kept all that bottled up for long enough. He just needed the support of someone who would not immediately judge him, and she did not. Strangely, Rose felt honored that Snape thought it was alright to confide in her. She was still puzzled as to why she was suddenly approachable in that way, but it still felt good to know that she was able to be of some help to the unhappy wizard. It was the least she could do after what he went through just to be there every night.

That apology for his misdirected rage didn't hurt either. Who would have thought that she would ever hear stubborn old Professor Snape say sorry?

"He said that? He actually said he was sorry?" asked Harry in a hushed voice as he and Rose hiked down the winding stairs. Rose had been quite confused by the previous day's DADA homework and Harry graciously stole her away to the library to help. They finished with time to spare before lunch break was over.

"That's what he said," said Rose. "Clear as day."

"And you believed him?"

"Of course, I believed him. I don't think he would have said it if he didn't mean it."

"Wow," Harry raised his brow in reluctant surprise. "It doesn't make sense, not one bit! I heard about yesterday. He scared Hermione, did you know that? I didn't think Snape would own up to that, and in less than twenty-four hours too!"

"Maybe he's starting to mellow out," Rose suggested.

"Let's hope," said Harry. "If he's finally screwed his head on right, then maybe we'll all have an easier time. Forgive me Rose, but I'm amazed with how you've been holding yourself up. It's been what, almost four weeks of detention? And you're cool with it. Anyone else would be running mad if they were you."

Rose shook her head. "Actually, Snape's not such a bad guy that time of night." Harry looked at her in a way that suggested that her red hair had turned neon green without her knowledge. "Don't look at me like that, Harry, I'm serious. I don't try to provoke him, and he doesn't try and make me snap at him. We just coexist. You know, what can we do?"

"You are such a confusing girl, you know?" Harry sighed. "I don't who to be more worried about, you or Snape. By the way, how did Snape look last night? Do you think he's still fighting off whatever it is he's got?"

"He seemed fine to me." Rose was glad that Harry wasn't so good at picking up on little white lies. She also thought it best to let him assume that her exchange with Snape ended with _I'm-sorry_. Beyond that, she would keep her promise of secrecy to their Potions master, no matter how much she liked Harry.

On a ledge below, they could see Ernie Macmillan entwining his arms around Hannah Abbott's shoulders. Her arms disappeared into his robes in a way that only suggested that her hands ended up in his back pockets. She rested her chin on his collarbone and stared up at him with a smile. "You know something?" said Rose. "Of all people I thought would suddenly decide to get together, those two were not the first to come to my mind. I'll give it a week."

"I'll give it three more days," Harry chuckled. "They're compatible, but not like that. I seem to remember Ernie lusting after you for a while. Did you ever hear about that?"

"I didn't until he asked me out fifth year and I said no." Rose shrugged her shoulder, weighed down by books. She looked at Harry, who suddenly looked rather incredulous. "You don't remember that? I thought Hermione might have said something, or Lavender at least. I felt so guilty; the poor guy couldn't take rejection. He and Hannah haven't looked at me the same way since."

"It sounds like you don't regret it."

"No, why should I go out with a guy I'm not interested in? I know what I want."

"Which might be why you're still single," Harry had to jump back to avoid Rose's quick hand. Her eyes were wide with shock. "Harry!" she squealed.

"Sorry!" Harry barked, seeing the flaw in the joke. "Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Damn right," Rose nodded. Offended to say the least, she picked up her downward speed, leaving Harry eight steps up by the time he caught on. He nearly tripped down the stairs trying to catch up. "Hey, I'm sorry, I take that back," he said with a firm hand on the railing. "It's just that it's hard to believe that you're not seeing anyone, knowing you and all."

"I know you didn't mean anything, Harry. But you know it's not exactly a tragedy to be eighteen and single."

"You mean you don't want a boyfriend?"

"I would like one, but I'm alright with waiting for a good guy." Rose let her eyes wander down to her feet, deliberately avoiding Harry's emerald gaze. A slight ache gripped her beneath her breast. "That battle took away a lot of great choices."

"Have you been looking much?" Harry asked. "Not that I'm trying to be nosy or anything. I haven't seen you out and about with other people"

"No, not really," said Rose. "With what's happened since May, it wasn't on my list of priorities coming back here. But really Harry, I actually don't mind. I think I like being one of the only Seventh years who don't feel the urge to breed like bunnies."

"Aw, cut that out!" Harry groaned, trying to get the image of Hermione and Ron in very interesting positions out of his head. They were not like that, he told himself. They wouldn't do anything like that. Even if they were, it certainly wouldn't be there. No, not even then! "It still surprises me though. You are a charming girl. You have to be if you had friends in all the houses."

All the houses…

Rose suddenly thought of the great unifier that was her old entourage, her three former friends. No one really thought it could be possible for people of all four houses to get along, and yet they did quite successfully for years. She did not think that Harry would ever bother to acknowledge all of them, for some pretty obvious reasons. But age-old rivalries did not have to apply to everyone, and it was good to see that he respected that. Rose was also grateful that Harry knew well enough not to push her further and get her talking about those wonderful people who she so sorely missed. Right on, Hermione!

"All in good time, I guess." The two of them stepped off the staircase onto the hard stone of the ground floor. Harry tugged his female companion around a hall corner headed west. Rose looked at him as they continued on their way. "Speaking of charming girls, how has Ginny been these days?"

"Pretty good, actually," Harry smiled. "She says that business has really picked up. She and George have been pulling double shifts at the joke shop. They're still having bad days without Fred, but they're happy that they have some money."

"That's good," Rose smiled back. "I'm glad she's doing well for herself."

"Yeah, she's already said that she wants to take me out somewhere nice when we get off for the holidays. I said she's going to have to beat me to the punch. By the way, she wants me to tell everyone how much she misses us."

Rose readjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "I never did dislike your girlfriend, even if she was the prettiest ginger at Hogwarts."

"Alright, now you're trying to trick me." Harry wagged a finger at her. "You stop that." Rose giggled at her failed cheek. Harry would never compare Ginny to anyone else, and Rose would never seriously challenge that. Not unless she wanted to find herself in trouble with the Boy-with-too-many-fans.

They easily made their way through the crowded halls, Harry getting enough attention to clear a path. "Where did Hermione say to meet her and Ron?" asked Rose, having never been told of their ultimate destination.

"She said to meet them out in the courtyard. We won't have the nice weather for that much longer. We ought to enjoy it while it lasts."

Rose looked around and noticed her surroundings. She did not like coming to this side of the castle, for reasons that she wouldn't dare to voice. It never bothered her in years gone by, but old memories were hard to ignore. She had been reminded of her singlehood once that day, she let his face find its way to the front of her mind, she didn't need any more. Though she had done a fine job at keeping that struggle to herself, she still wasn't ready to confront that heartache. Seeing Hannah and Ernie together had already twisted her gut, longing for the relationship that never was. And though Harry's comments were innocent, he did nothing but remind her of…no! No, she would not go there again. Rose knew herself; if she thought about him too much, she would cry. She had cried over him enough through the summer months. She would be damned before she let herself break down in front of everyone.

"C'mon, out here," Harry's voice urged on. He led Rose into an open cloister, the cool autumn air hitting their faces in a quick blast. From across the way, she could hear Gryffindor's most famous couple talking. Hermione called out their names. But when Rose looked over to see them sitting on a crumbling bench beneath an ancient dogwood tree, her heels dug into dry soil.

They had to meet there. They just _had _to meet out there! Everything she had tried to force down came rushing back to her. All she had to do was stand there and she could see his face, hear his voice. Even the wretched air could have smelt like him. It was as though he was watching her, unseen to her living eye. Please, Rose could only hope for something like that! A hard lump formed in her throat as the tree's delicate leaves fell to tickle at her ankles.

"Hey Rose, what's the matter?" she heard Harry say. For a split second, Rose had forgotten that other people were there, and that they were now looking at her. She raced to find a response. "Nothing I…uh, well…I, I…I'm sorry. I just remembered something I had to do."

"What? You forget an assignment?" asked Ron.

"Uh, yeah!" said Rose, taking the cue. She started walking backwards, toward the door where she came. She had to get out of there, get away from that courtyard! "Yeah, I totally forgot about…another class."

"You can't put it off for a little while?" Harry's face scrunched around his glasses.

"No, no, I can't. Sorry guys, I have to go. I'll see you in Potions."

Rose tried to make a calm escape. But when her friends disappeared behind the wall, her pace increased to a quiet sprint. She pressed her lips together, if only to stop the imminent tremble in her chin. She breathed quickly, trying to pacify herself. She had no idea where she was going, but she had to get away from everyone. Unfortunately, she didn't get very far before she heard following footsteps and her name on the air. She looked behind her to see who had the gall to go after her. She wasn't shocked to see thick brown hair blowing back away from the face. "Hermione, go back to the boys."

"But what happened?" Hermione gasped, still jogging. "Why did you take off like that?"

'_You don't remember,'_ Rose thought to herself. She found the door to the girls' bathroom and shoved it open. Once inside, Rose dropped her bag against the wall and locked herself in an empty cubicle. She sat down on the very edge of the toilet seat as the door creaked open, announcing Hermione's arrival.

"Rose, what's wrong?" she asked as she found her friend's feet under the flimsy door.

"Nothing," said Rose, her tone getting tighter.

"You hide in loos for no reason? Just tell me what happened back there. Did someone say something to you? Did Malfoy corner you again?"

"No." Now Rose's eyes were burning. She bit down on her finger. "You really don't remember."

"Remember what?"

"The dogwood,"

"But you used to sit out there all the time." Hermione stopped when she heard the sniffling behind the cubicle. She hunched over to look under and noticed a clear drop hit the floor. Her heart sank into her stomach to realize that Rose was crying. She rapidly searched her mind. Why would the dogwood tree upset her so much? She really did used to spend quite a bit of time out there. "Did it remind you of your other friends?"

There was no immediate response, most likely to assure of their solitude. But then Hermione heard Rose inhale with a sniff. "It reminded me of him, okay?"

Hermione's heart suddenly sunk deeper, down into her pelvis. She knew instantly who Rose was talking about, no questions asked. "Oh no!"

"I only liked it out there because he did. He always liked to sit under that damn tree. That's why you saw me out there all the time; it was to be with him. Didn't you ever notice how Natasha and Jonny weren't always with us?"

"Oh, damn it!" Hermione swore. "Rose, I'm so sorry. I totally forgot."

Rose sighed. "Think nothing of it."

Hermione was not very convinced by Rose's tone, now weighed down with emotion. All she wanted to do was help, but she was shaken by this private, but still abrupt outpouring. She always knew that Rose was coping with losing her long-time crush in the battle. But it was easy to overlook because Rose hardly let anyone see that. A month and a half into term, and she never lost enthusiasm, even through rigorous Quidditch practices, and long weeks at Snape's mercy. Even when it was only the two of them in their little room, Rose almost never talked about it. To Hermione, it sounded like Rose had bottled up that pain for a little too long. One does not forget love by simply ignoring it.

"Are you okay?" she asked, the only thought that came to her.

"Just leave me alone," said Rose, letting go of a groan and more tears.

"Are you sure about that? You sound like you need to talk."

Inside the stall, Rose hunched in on herself. "Please don't do that. You're starting to sound like my mother." She watched Hermione's feet walk over to the opposing wall. But then she was annoyed to watch her friend lean and slide down to sit on the tile. What did she have to do to show that she did not want to talk?

"You seemed fine the last few weeks," said Hermione. "Forgive me, but I thought that you were alright."

"I thought so too," Rose admitted. "I had all summer to go on like this, and I did. I really thought I was going to be fine, with or without support. But the way that everyone has been hooking up, how the rest of the world is off getting married…"

"It's hard to watch?"

"Hannah and Ernie were the last straw."

Hermione shifted on the floor. "Why? I thought you didn't like Ernie?"

"I don't, but that's not the point. It's the fact that he and Hannah are _trying to date._ I'm convinced that they don't even like each other like that. They're just together because everyone else is. It's getting ridiculous, Hermione. Hannah and Ernie, Neville and Luna, Lavender and Justin –,"

"Aw Rose, I'm sorry," said Hermione. "Are Ron and I –,"

"You're not!" Rose snapped.

"But –,"

"Trust me, you and Ron are not my problem." Rose dabbed at her now red eyes with her robe sleeve. "I'm not mad at you two for any reason. But think about it for a minute. If he hadn't died that night, if he came back with me, if it was him I was walking around with and not Harry… at the rate everyone is going, he could have been more than my best friend."

Hermione sighed. She remembered how close Rose had been with that boy, regardless of the fact that he was a Slytherin. They outdid everyone and every expectation to become the best of friends. No one they knew ever honestly thought that there could have been something else there, and Hermione wondered why she never made the connection until Rose told her for herself. But she still sympathized. She knew exactly how it felt to fall for her best friend.

"You're right," she admitted. "If he did feel that way about you, he very well could have been."

"But we'll never know that, will we?"

Hermione was growing frustrated with Rose's stubbornness. But it was very true. She had watched those two from afar for a very long time, and to her, it never appeared that Rose's recently deceased friend ever looked at her in any other way. She was just his friend as far as anyone was concerned. And to Rose's utter misfortune, there was no one who would have been able to tell her different.

Hermione stretched out her legs. "Rose, I didn't know him very well, but I'm sure that he loved you dearly."

"If he had loved me, he would have made a pass at me at least once," said Rose, swallowing what remained of her tears. "In case I have to remind you, he didn't."

"But he still loved you as his friend," Hermione reaffirmed. "He obviously saw a lot in you as a person, or else he wouldn't have bothered to ever talk to you. I heard that the other Slytherins used to take the mickey out of him for hanging out with you, but he ignored them. To me, that says a lot about him. He cared about you, I know he did."

The Head Girl waited for a response. All she heard behind the door was a rustling and some sparse sniveling. Finally after what felt like an hour, the lock rattled and the cubicle door opened with a long squeak. Rose emerged with a crumpled wad of bath tissue in her hand, wiping away the offending salty liquid running down her cheeks. She walked over to the sinks and leaned on white porcelain. She noticed Hermione standing up in the mirror.

"I'm so sorry, Mione," said Rose, regaining her calm control. "I told myself I wouldn't do this."

"I understand, it still hurts," Hermione came up behind her, making eye contact by means of reflection. "I know you really miss him. It's alright to mourn someone you loved. You can't stop yourself, not unless you have a heart of stone."

"I wish I did, I'm sure it feels better than this." Rose stuffed her tissues into her pocket. She looked back into the mirror and was dismayed by her own appearance. Turning on the tap, Rose smeared cold water over her eyes, hoping it would reduce the puffiness and the horrendous red streaks. "I didn't think being in that courtyard would hit me so hard. I've avoided it long enough. I hoped it would be alright by now."

"It's not going to happen overnight," said Hermione. "If you really were in love with this guy, you can't expect to get over him just like that. I mean, look at Professor Snape."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Please, even you have to say that eighteen years is a bit extreme."

"You still feel for him though." Hermione cocked her head to Rose, who thought about that for a moment. Snape had never openly spoken about his love for the late Lily Potter, but Harry had privately told a sparse few what he knew. Rose thought it was a tragic tale if she ever heard one. "Yeah, I guess I do," she said. Given her own situation, how could she not?

Hermione came closer to Rose's turned back, still staring into the mirror. It had been way too long since she had seen Rose like this. The usually confident Gryffindor just wasn't there. All she saw was the weakened, heartbroken soul that Rose fought to keep inside. Pity tightly clenched Hermione's heart, doubtful that her words were really helping. But there was always the old fashion way of showing condolences.

She tapped Rose on the shoulder. When she turned her head, Hermione opened her arms. At first, Rose was hesitant. But upon further thought, this gesture seemed all the more welcoming. She didn't want someone to tell her that everything would be alright. What she wanted was a hug.

Rose allowed herself to be wrapped in Hermione's embrace, her arms coming around to squeeze back. For a long stretch of time, the girls stayed this way, Hermione comforting Rose as a mother would her child. Rose finally let her tense body relax, beyond relieved. She once thought that she had lost this comfort along with her true friends. She thought that death and despair had robbed her of moments like this. Hermione really was a wonderful person. Not just a wonderful person, a saint!

Maybe she hadn't lost all of her true friends.

Rose was the one who pulled away to get another look at her eyes, which had gone down some with the icy water. Hermione kept an arm around her waist. "Cheer up; it won't be this way forever. It will get easier. If anything, just remember that no matter what, he's in a better place now."

"I know," said Rose with a sigh.

"Hey, I just had an idea." Hermione went to retrieve Rose's things. "You've been more comfortable with Professor Snape the last few weeks. Maybe you could talk to him about this sometime."

"I don't think Snape and I will ever be that comfortable with each other."

"It still can't hurt to try,"

"I think it would. No."

Hermione glided back over to the sink basins and handed Rose her bag. "You should think about talking to someone, though. What you've been doing probably won't work forever."

"Maybe I will one day," said Rose. "It's still too soon. At least you understand that. My mum wanted to haul me off to a Muggle shrink after a while, like that would make it any better." Rose giggled to herself, remembering her mother's frustrated ranting on those hot summer nights. Happy to see some humor, Hermione laughed along with her.

"So are you okay for now?" she asked. "Are you ready to go back to the guys? We can move somewhere else if you like."

"No, no," said Rose, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I just want some time to myself, is that okay?"

"If that's what you need. What should I tell Harry and Ron?"

"Tell them _the truth_. Tell them that I used to sit with my friends out there, and I got upset thinking about them."

"But what about –,"

"No, don't tell them about all this." Rose cut Hermione off. "They don't have a clue about how I really felt about him, and I want to keep it like that."

If Hermione had any say in the situation, Harry and Ron would have known about Rose's little secret a long time ago. After all, she had the confidence that they would hold it as closely as she did. However, her bond to Rose was something that she wasn't entirely ready to risk. She took a step back toward the door. "Alright, so I guess I'll see you in Potions."

"See you then," Rose nodded. Hermione turned to leave, but stopped short. "Are you sure that you're okay?" Again, Rose nodded with a smile. Though very unconvinced, the brunette witch left to return to two very puzzled young men.

**~HP~**

Rose did not stay in that bathroom for much longer, deciding to venture back out into the halls and into life. Once again, she found herself on an aimless trek. Why was it that she had no idea where to wander off to? She wanted to be by herself, but walking alone through several corridors made her see the flaw in that. How could a person desire seclusion, but still be so lonely?

Every time she passed a window, she looked out at the orange and gold leaves blowing in the wind. Every odd glance, she would catch sight of the red leaves of that old dogwood, and her insides would twist. She breathed away the need to weep. She regretted never telling Natasha, or Jonny. If they had known the depth of her pain, if they had known just how shattering his death had been, then maybe they could have come through for her. They could have been there when she needed them most. He was their friend too, they should have anyway. And yet they left her there alone for their own sakes. As much as she loved them, Rose could not suppress the resentment she felt towards the former Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

Her wanderings took her to the outside of the Great hall, where the massive stairwell waited just beyond. She surrendered to the possibility that she might end up walking around every corner of the castle until she had to turn around and make her way down to the dungeons. At least she would have enough time to think of something to discuss with Snape when seven thirty rolled around. Yes, thankfully Snape had returned to the customary detention call-time. But either way, Rose didn't really care. No matter what Snape demanded of her, she didn't mind doing it anymore. She didn't mind being there, and she didn't mind Snape. She pushed aside her gloomy reveries to once again question her own mental state.

She had just passed the staffroom when she was stopped by a chipper call. "Well, what do you know?! Fancy meeting you here, Rose." Rose turned to the open door where the warm air was wafting out into the open hall. "Hello Professor Wicker."

"Such a funny coincidence," said the professor, tossing her thick brown hair over her shoulder. "I was just telling my colleagues here about that rousing debate you gave in class this morning."

"Were you now?" Rose smiled uncomfortably, not wanting to tug poor little Wicker into her problems. Inside the forbidden zone that was the tiny staffroom, she heard Sprout and Flitwick laughing. Just behind Wicker's shoulder, she could see Snape seated before the fireplace, in the same low armchair she remembered from her third year boggart encounter. He had a copy of_ The Daily Prophet _in his lap. The Potions professor looked up past Wicker and acknowledged Rose's presence with a short nod. She responded with a weak smile.

"Oh yes, I couldn't resist. I have heard my fair share of arguments, but never in my life have I heard such a well-rounded discussion over whether the Prime Minister or the monarchy is the true center of the Muggle government. I'll tell you, there are wizards more than twice your age who don't even come close to your aptitude."

Rose blushed as the teachers laughed pleasantly, now joined by another man's voice. She glanced at Snape, and was a bit glad to see that it wasn't him. "It's nothing, Professor. Anyone in the class could do that if they just watched Muggle news networks. It's the same thing. I'll be honest, I think I quoted the BBC at one point."

"It was still an excellent job," said Wicker, resting a hand on her hip. "I really hope that no one tries to tell you different because your place is in Muggle Relations. You are just as familiar with their policies as with ours. Allow me to be bold; I believe that you could have even had a future in Muggle politics if you hadn't already dismissed that notion."

"Cassandra please, you're embarrassing the poor girl." Lupin came up behind Wicker to pass her at the door. Behind him followed Snape, who had risen from his place without much notice. Red-faced, Rose nodded her gratitude to the peaceful werewolf. Wicker giggled at him. "Oh cut it out, Remus. It's fun to have a student who really knows what they're talking about."

"That's one of the joys of the job," said Lupin. He and Snape stood in the hall as the older witch bid Rose a good afternoon, reminding her of the readings for next class. When the door came to a creaky close, Snape rolled his dark eyes.

"Is there ever a time when that woman is not in a good mood?"

"Not much, sir," said Rose, shifting her feet. She hoped that Snape would not retaliate for last night with bitter words. Words could not describe her relief when all Snape did was shake his head with a slight sneer. "I would tell you what ruins a good day for her, but even I don't know that yet."

"It's nice to see that you two are on speaking terms," Lupin commented with a pleasantly raised brow, looking between the two of them. "After yesterday, I thought that you would avoid each other like the plague. I really am sorry about what happened with you, Miss Beckett."

"You shouldn't have to apologize, Professor Lupin." Rose looked at Snape while she spoke to the DADA professor. She almost wanted to say that she already got her apology, but she did not think that Snape would appreciate that much. "It wasn't your fault."

Snape pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose. But even if that was intended as an attack, he would not allow himself a repeat of yesterday's performance. There was no need to inform Beckett that it actually _was _Lupin's fault that he had been so livid, especially when she wasn't looking for the answer. If she was as smart as she thought she was, she might have already made the connection.

"If it helps, I had Parkinson come up early last night as well," said Lupin as he cocked his head at Snape, almost in a way of silently going _ha-ha _to his old school rival. "It didn't seem fair to me that you serve more time when the two of you got into trouble together." Rose let her jaw drop down, and her eyes sprung open. It was soft surprise, but surprise all the same.

Snape growled deep in his throat, holding onto his composure in the face of their student. He turned to her, tucking his newspaper under his arm. "While on the subject of your detention, Miss Beckett, I would like for you to bring a good portion of your ink stores with you tonight. With what I have set up for you, you will need them."

Rose nodded. "Yes sir."

The Potions master turned to return down to the dungeons, making one last glance at the quiet, not quite nervous student. "I suppose I'll see you within the hour," he said. Rose nodded yet again with a gentle smirk. "Good day, Professor."

Both Rose and Lupin watched as Snape rounded the corner and descended down into the dank lower halls. "It is good that the two of you are doing what you can to get along with each other," said Lupin. "He's been under quite a lot of stress lately."

"I understand," Rose sighed, sinking back into her bad mood. It suddenly felt weird to know everything that she did, with Lupin obviously unaware of that fact. Save for the headmaster and possibly a few Slytherins, she likely knew more than anyone else. She felt an odd knot in her already warped insides. "He's never asked me to bring ink before. I wonder what he meant by that."

"Perhaps he's going to have you write lines. I shudder to think how many if he wants you to bring a good chunk of your own supply."

Lupin lightly chuckled to himself. Rose tried to laugh as well, but her face quickly fell long again. Lupin grew concerned when he got a look at the girl's face. She looked as though she was trying as hard to keep her poise and serenity as Snape was these days. To Lupin, that face held none of the charm he had become accustomed to. True, Defense against the Dark Arts was not the easiest of classes for her. But this was different from the flustered disappointment that he occasionally saw. That face said something entirely different, gave away an entirely different emotion. He looked into Rose's face and only saw sadness. He should know, Nymphadora Tonks had left him with enough of it. He didn't know what this young witch had been through to end up standing there like that. But it was evident that whatever those wounds were, they still hadn't healed. The red tint in her pretty blue eyes made that more apparent.

"I recall that you were having some trouble in yesterday's class," he said, trying to make more conversation. "Were you able to figure out the homework assignment?"

"Um, no, not really," said Rose. "Harry tried to help me, but I still don't quite get it."

"Really? Harry couldn't help you?" Lupin raised his sandy eyebrows in stunned surprise.

"He doesn't know it yet. So could you keep that hushed up for me, please?" Rose pleaded. She knew how close Boy-wonder was to the wolf hero.

"Of course I will. I just thought that with Harry's natural talent, you were in some good hands."

"We can't be good at everything, I guess."

Lupin sighed sympathetically. _'The poor dear,' _he thought. He wondered why she was wandering around alone when it seemed like she needed someone to back her up. She wasn't terribly broken up, but she still looked like she could use some company. "Well, you still have some time before your next class. If you want, you can come with me and I can explain the lesson to you again, give you a few more pointers. Would you like that?"

Rose thought for a moment. It wasn't like her to actually consider remedial lessons in anything. But it wasn't as though she much better to do with what remained of the break. This could be just the distraction she had been looking for. So for better or for worse, she nodded, accepting Lupin's offer. She turned to follow him up to his classroom. Internally, she was telling Hermione that she would have some company that day after all.

**~HP~**

_**My beta tells me that this is her favorite chapter so far, blaming it on her being a sucker for imagery. I don't know how I feel about that, but she does point out my mistakes.**_

_**As I have said before, we will find out more and more about Rose as time goes on, and we will learn more about this failed romance in the future. But it won't be without reason, and reason is sure to come. I hope you're enjoying the ride thus far.**_

_**Keep up the good reading and reviewing! Thank-you!**_


	18. Home-grown Half-blood

**_Hey folks, this chapter should have been posted last night, but I accidently knocked out a tooth filling and I was too traumatized to work. The resulting dental repairs will also probably take the edge off my creativity for a while, so I'm getting this up while I've still got it._**

**_Now, I have to tell you, I am not overly fond of this chapter, and I never have been. But my best friend and beta, who saw this story before anyone else, told me that I have said too much about Rose's character without a proper explanation, and this is the result. The saving grace was that I was able to work in some exposition that I did think was important, and thank heavens for that._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

"I have to ask you Miss Beckett, why Muggles?"

Snape relaxed into the wingchair before his office desk, a book in his lap. He threw his voice across the room to where his storeroom door hung open. Rose was perched on top of a small ladder with a loaded quill in one hand, and a dusty jar of salamander hearts in the other. Her jar of ink was stuck to a lower step by means of a Fixing Charm. When she suggested to Snape all those weeks ago that he rewrite the labels on his personal stock of ingredients, she didn't exactly mean for her to end up doing it for him.

"Where did that come from?" asked Rose, leaning under the arch of the door to look at her teacher.

"Well, this afternoon had to be the two-hundredth time I listened to another professor going on about your supposedly unrivaled ability to understand Muggles and everything that they do."

Rose giggled, in a much better mood than the last time she encountered the Potions professor. "Ah, Professor Wicker is exaggerating, rather grossly I should say."

"I'm sure she is, and it's nice to see that you agree." Snape flipped a page in a casual manner. "But when you are subjected to such ridiculous rantings for so long, you cannot help but begin to wonder. How did all that start?"

"The same way as my interest in potion making," Rose reached for a small bottle of what turned out to be goat's blood and reached down to dip her quill. "I started in Muggle Studies my third year and I realized that I had a knack for the subject. So I kept going with it."

"What was it that appealed to you?" the Potions master asked. The question, one he had been silently asking for as long as Rose had her Muggle-loving reputation, had been nagging at him for a good part of the evening. He thought that given his new ability to communicate with the Gryffindor, he would finally have his answer. She was there anyway, and she had no fear.

"It's difficult to explain, sir," said Rose. "There are lots of things about Muggles that are interesting to me. They're especially interesting when you look at them from a Wizarding perspective. It's fun to look at their way of life compared to ours."

Snape looked at her from underneath a cocked black brow. "It doesn't seem that difficult to master, especially for a witch such as yourself. If I'm not mistaken, your mother is a Muggle."

"She is," Rose said with a careful nod.

"And I assume that you were primarily raised by her?"

"I was,"

"Then it would appear that your _natural talent_ is really just your upbringing being put to good use."

"You know, you're not the first to make that assumption," said Rose. "Professor, there's more to it than that. Alright, I'll give you some credit. I did walk into the class with the advantage of having grown up around Muggles, but I didn't get by on that alone. What's gotten the attention of Professors Burbage and Wicker is my frame of thought. Other wizards hear about what goes on in the Muggle world and to them, it might as well be another planet. I just don't see it that way."

"You lived your life going between the two worlds. Frankly, I'd be surprised if you did not."

"It isn't that, Professor. It's like this, in a manner of speaking. When people talk about wizards and Muggles, they only seem to focus on the differences. But the only difference is magic. Other than that, we're all just people. Sure, you and I can do some pretty cool things with wands. But we're still human. Take magic out of the equation, and you wouldn't be any different than any other man off the street."

"It sounds to me that you believe that wizards and Muggles are equals," said Snape. "That is a very dangerous philosophy, as I'm sure you already know."

"I never said that," Rose barked. "Don't try and put words in my mouth. I don't necessarily believe that we're equals; I think I'd be dead right now if I went about preaching that. What I mean to say is that while our world has its good things, the Muggle world does as well. Believe it or not, Muggles have come up with some bloody good ideas of their own. What I try to do is find those finer points, and then try to see their bright side, maybe find ways to incorporate them into our lifestyle."

"What you're doing is messing around with the foundations of our culture," said Snape. "We shouldn't have to integrate Muggle customs into ours."

"Why not?"

"There are reasons why we separated ourselves from them centuries ago. I sat through the same History of Magic lessons that you did. Do I need to remind you that the people who you adore so much are descended from people who burned our ancestors alive?"

"So Muggles shouldn't be forgiven for medieval persecutions?" Rose chose to stare down at her own attempts to copy Snape's handwriting, rather than looking at the man himself. "If you have to ask my opinion, we cannot blame them for what they did to wizards all that time ago. It probably would have happened anyway. Groups of people have been going after other groups of people for as long as they've walked the earth. We weren't the first, and we certainly weren't the last. Races, nationalities, religions; you name it, they've been targeted. And countless Muggles have died at the hands of other Muggles for such feeble causes. You ever hear the story of the World Wars?"

"You make a decent point," Snape admitted after a moment of reflection.

"You see? And you know what? We're no better! You-know-who going after Muggle-borns, same thing. It's just the human psyche. Some people are hardwired to do that. So why should we treat Muggles the way we do when in reality, we're not so far off? That just doesn't make sense to me."

Snape rolled his eyes with a sarcastic smirk. "You know Miss Beckett, I always knew that you were a Muggle enthusiast hiding behind childhood experience. What else would spur you on to NEWT level Muggle Studies?"

"I hardly consider myself an enthusiast." Rose's face disappeared as she reached for another jar. "Let me remind you that my allegiance is to the Wizarding world, regardless of my upbringing."

"I'm sure it is, but as you said, you have Muggle family. No matter what you do in our world, there is always a part of you that is stuck with them."

"And unlike some, I don't mind. This is armadillo bile, right?" Rose showed him the jar she had been trying to read. Snape glared at her and told her that with her experience, she ought to know for herself. Carefully, Rose unscrewed the lid, brought the brim up to her face, and took a quick whiff. "Oh! Oh yeah, that's armadillo bile!" Face scrunched around her nose, she wrote it out on the aging parchment stuck to the side.

"Are you sure about that?" Snape inquired, engrossed in his book. Rose jabbed the feather of her quill at him. "Don't test me, Professor Snape. I remember that smell." She went back to her work. Snape looked up to watch her ignoring him.

"What would you say if I said that I believe that your love for Muggles is _only_ because of your family?"

"Firstly, you're only talking about half my family," said Rose. "And secondly, it isn't exactly unwarranted. I lived with Muggles for the first eleven years of my life. My dad didn't even bring me into our world. He never brought me to any magic establishments, just kept me with the Muggles. I never knew any better."

Snape quietly took in this information, but his mind ran into some sort of invisible wall. His book snapped shut onto his index finger, not causing so much as a flinch. "Wait a minute. You don't mean to say that you had no idea about the Wizarding world at all when you were a child."

"I didn't have a clue that my father was a wizard until an owl tapped on my window with my first Hogwarts letter," Rose explained. Snape was a bit surprised. Alistair had never been too close to his daughter, but that seemed a bit extreme even to him, a fellow Slytherin. Rose continued. "But even so, that was all I knew, and that was what I went back to every summer. It was my life, plain and simple. I didn't hate it back then, and I don't hate it now."

"Ah, but you already said that you did not know any better," said Snape.

"Ah to you, Professor, I learned," Rose playfully sneered. Both of them seemed to disregard the level of comfort between them. "Believe me when I say this. I like our world better. If I didn't, I would have left a long time ago."

"I would love to see you try. You don't know how many times I have heard wizards complaining and wishing that they could give up magic forever and live as Muggles, but I don't think it would be that simple. And you are still quite young. Could you honestly see yourself going through the rest of your life like that?"

"No, that's why I'm still here," said Rose. "Besides, that would be running away from what I really am. I'd just be setting myself up for a long, unhappy life. Even my mother agrees with me, and with her, I couldn't ask for much more."

Severus was struck by that comment. What did she mean by that? But since Rose did not look or sound hot and bothered, he dismissed it as he continued to listen to Rose's voice, echoing down from the high shelves of his storeroom. "But even if I had to give up my magic and go back to my life before Hogwarts, I don't think I'd be too broken up about it. After all, the Muggles I knew back home were very lovely people. I kind of wish they all were like that – whoa!"

Snape looked up to see why Rose had stopped so suddenly. He was startled to see that she had stood unsteadily on the top step of the ladder, which rattled under her weight. It seemed that she had nearly lost her footing, and froze to regain her balance. "Beckett, what are you doing?" Snape's tone heightened to tense levels as he watched the perilously perched student.

"I'm trying to get at the stuff up here," said Rose, straining to reach.

"Well, those are expensive ingredients you are handling. And you're not exactly a featherweight. Get down from there before something happens. I really do not want to explain any injuries to Madam Pomfrey."

Rose carefully climbed down the ladder, taking her quill with her. "But Professor, you have my wand. How else am I supposed to reach those jars?"

"You could have just said something before deciding to test your balance." Snape rose from his chair and walked over to the open door where the witch waited. He reached into folds of fabric to present her with her wand. Rose looked at the Potions professor with an air of pleasant surprise. He was actually allowing her to use magic this time? He actually trusted her with that? This couldn't possibly last longer than ten minutes. But Rose was willing to take the risk that came with opportunity. She grasped the handle as Snape gave her a relaxed glare. "This is a privilege I will allow you this one time. Do not make me regret it."

Rose climbed back up the ladder and went back to her work, summoning down jars with quiet charms. Likewise, Snape retreated back to his chair. He tried to carry on with his reading, but he kept finding his attention being drawn to Beckett, or rather to Beckett's feet and legs. The girl was everything he had assumed she was, and yet she could fight for her beliefs in a way that didn't make him want to yank his lanky black hair out. She was one of the only Muggle lovers he had yet met who was persuasive enough to get him to at least see her logic. And her logic wasn't even half-bad. What was it about her, Snape thought, that this was possible? He wondered what it was like to be in Cassandra's place. She was well-mannered enough in his presence. But in that element, she had to be something else.

'_She has to be absolutely charming in that class. Perhaps Cassandra wasn't exaggerating as much as I thought.'_

Some time had passed by uninterrupted when a light grunting echoed out of the storeroom. Snape looked over in light confusion; that sounded like grunts of pain. "Miss Beckett, are you alright?" he asked.

The response was the ladder continuing to squeak as Rose climbed down again, her fingers wrapped around her wand. "Professor, can I take a break?" she said, rather bravely upon further thought. "My hands are really starting to cramp up."

"Is that all? Beckett, you are pathetic."

"Please sir? I've been at it for hours, and I've almost got three walls done. I won't take very long, I promise."

Snape wanted to sneer at Rose for such ridiculous pleading. But he changed his mind when he got a look at the clock resting at the edge of his desk. Perhaps nearly three hours was a long enough stretch, and three walls weren't so bad. So rather reluctantly, he sighed and motioned to the chair facing his. "Very well, but only for a few minutes."

"Thank you, sir," said Rose, flexing her aching fingers. She turned around and lightly flicked her wand, detaching the near-empty inkwell from the ladder step. Snape watched on as Rose went to the corner where her handbag rested on the floor. The Gryffindor jammed the cork back into the neck of the bottle and placed it back inside, exchanging it for a small package. She sat down in the chair, and Snape noticed the wrappings made famous by Honeyduke's Sweet Shop. Rose broke off a square of chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

"Miss Beckett, must you eat that now?" said Snape.

"There's never a bad time for chocolate. Do you want some?" Rose snapped off another chunk and held it out to him. Snape however politely refused. He didn't want to take any chances of Dumbledore getting wind of this and somehow ending up with a candy bowl on his desk. Rose sat back and bit the square in half.

"I'm just curious," Snape commented as he too sank back into his chair. "What aspects of Muggle culture do you think could do us some good?"

"Um…little things," said Rose. "I'm not calling for an overhaul, just little tidbits here and there."

"Like what?"

Rose further peeled back the wrapping in her hands. "Things like music, conveniences, sweets, those sorts of things. But for me, it's mostly been technology. There are probably a lot of Muggle Relations Specialists who would strongly disagree. But you know, it won't be long before the new millennium. We could stand to pick up something more, and we don't necessarily have to rely on electricity. I plan on writing my last Muggle Studies thesis on the advances and advantages of today's technology."

"It sounds as though you've given this a fair bit of thought." Snape cocked his brow at her.

"More than that, Professor. I've been experimenting for the last year or two. I want to be able to get appliances to work by magical power alone. I've got a CD player up in my dormitory that I managed to tweak into working with no batteries. I'd go further, but everything else goes haywire while I'm here. I can't quite figure it out. It annoys the hell out of me. I miss a lot of that stuff." Rose glanced up to notice the incredulous stare coming from Snape's chair. "I must confess, it was all a guilty pleasure of mine back home. When I'm home for the summer holidays, you'll mostly find me planted in front of the television. When you don't see much of your wizard friends outside school, you find that there isn't a great deal to do."

"Where is home for you?" asked Snape. He couldn't help but wonder where a witch like her comes from, if not from the Beckett estate in Ireland.

In the past, Rose might have been extremely cautious. But looking at Snape now, he was not nearly as threatening. She couldn't detect anything sinister in the question, it sounded like nothing more than calm inquiry. She humored him. "Meadow Hill, tiny little Muggle village."

"Where is that, exactly?"

"It's in Kent, about an hour and a half away from Canterbury." Snape nodded as Rose spoke. "But you wouldn't know it. It might as well be in the middle of nowhere. It's a good twenty, thirty minutes before you hit the nearest railway station. I always joked that the bridge into town connects us to the rest of the world."

"Forgive my ignorance, but I would have assumed that your family lived in London."

"I'll bet I know who gave you that impression," said Rose, sarcasm imbedded in her calm tone. "You're right. I was born in London, and we lived there for around two years. But when my dad left, Mum took me back to Kent where she grew up."

"It sounds like it was a quiet life."

"It was," Rose raised flaxen eyebrows, twisting the ends of her red hair with her fingers. "So, so quiet. There have never been more than three-hundred people living there. My mother always did say that it did me good to be away from the city, away from those nasty berks. But she was right. Meadow Hill was a wonderful place to grow up."

"Why was that?" asked Snape, making light conversation.

"Ah Professor, you couldn't imagine a sweeter village in Britain. It's such a beautiful place. You should see it in the early summer, so lush and green." The Potions master tried to picture the village, seeing a quaint town invaded by foliage. It certainly was a stark contrast to the brick and concrete of Spinner's End. Rose went on. "I think being so out of the way from other towns made it all the more pleasant. To me, London was another world. The Muggles in Meadow Hill are delightful, much more delightful than a lot of others I've met in the UK."

"I have a hard time believing something like that," Snape interrupted. He snapped a page over at the thought of the terrifically annoying Muggles he had the misfortune to cross paths with over the years. Really, Rose loved them already as it was. Did she have to make a particular band of them sound like a choir of angels?

"I know," said Rose, shaking her head. "I know it sounds ridiculous. But it's true."

"Oh yeah, and what happened when you started having spontaneous bursts of magic like we all did?"

"Well…um…I did get several odd looks when that happened. A few of them actually did say that I was a little odd to them, couldn't really say why. But most of them were decent enough to keep it to themselves. My family was all local. If people were ever gossiping about us, we knew about it."

"Your family was close?"

"Oh, the Waverlys were always a tight knit group. They've always banded together through thick and thin. I'm glad that it didn't change when I came along."

"Why would it?" asked Snape, a bit confused. He cocked his head to the side.

"Because of my father," Rose said rather bluntly. "In eighteen years, I haven't heard one nice thing about him from them. I've heard everything from he shouldn't have left us, to they shouldn't have gotten married. My grandmother says time and time again that my mother should never have gone out with him. Frankly, she thinks they never should have met. Don't you think that's saying that I shouldn't exist?"

Snape couldn't voice his answer. He hadn't expected to get this much response to his simple curious question. Then again, it wasn't too shocking to hear of such opinions of the girl's father. Alistair wasn't very pleasant to many wizards, forget about Muggles. To be honest, it was shocking to hear that Alistair had actually met his former in-laws. "I cannot say, Miss Beckett. However, I don't believe your grandmother meant anything towards you."

Rose shrugged. "Fair enough, you don't know any of them. Not that it matters anyway. For the most part, I've gotten along alright without him around. And spending a few weekends with him in London didn't do any harm. I half-expected that they thought I would turn out like him."

"They don't know that you're a witch, do they?"

"What? Oh no," Rose abruptly shook her head. "No one knows that I'm a witch, just my parents. What kind of a traitor do you take me for?" She noticed Snape subtly breathe a slight sigh of relief. She rolled her blue eyes. Just because she liked Muggles did not mean that she would jeopardize Wizarding secrecy.

"In my youth, I might have called you that," Snape explained, not coming as a surprise to his young student. "But not tonight. I'm sorry, but I must know. Which one of your parents decided on that one, as it seems clear to me that you had no say in it."

"Actually, it's one of the few things they agreed on together. Dad's excuse was that since his life was secretive, it would be fitting that mine be as well. But really, it went beyond that. The Waverlys are a nice family, but they wouldn't appreciate that Mum's ex-husband could use magic, and so can I." Rose leaned forward, stuffing the remains of her chocolate bar into her handbag. "You see, they come from a conservative background. My grandparents were aggressive church-goers in every sense of the word, and I cannot remember a time when they weren't far right in politics. They had five children and expected every single one of them to follow their example, especially Mum. She's the youngest and the only girl in the bunch. Well as it turns out, Mummy dearest wasn't so terribly like that after all. And as a consequence, I'm not either."

Snape smirked, not totally aware of himself. "You never did strike me as the traditionalist type, Beckett."

"Yes, I guess it's my Beckett side," said Rose. "Even without magic, I'm pretty broadminded. I'll tell you sir; it makes for some interesting family reunions. At sixteen, I was arguing with aunts, uncles, _and _my grandmother over the stupidest of things. I've heard it all from labor issues to why the Royal family is so important to us, as English people."

"Oh, so they are _those Muggles,_" Snape half-groaned, rubbing at his pale temple.

"The whole lot of them," exclaimed Rose. "Church-going nationalists, every last one of them! My grandmother is the worst. I've never met a bigger royalist outside of London. She still owns and uses an entire tea set from when the Prince of Wales was married. Professor Snape, my middle name is Elizabeth. Can you guess where that came from?"

"Yes, I see," nodded Snape.

"So you understand, Professor. My family's life was just not compatible with the one that I was ultimately destined for. They never would have welcomed a witch into their folds, not over their dead bodies. And my mum knew this about her family, and she knew that she could never tell any of them, even if she had wanted to. So she never did. It's just me and her… and my dad."

The blabbering Beckett might not have known much for herself, but Severus felt like he knew what she was talking about. Your whole childhood, surrounded by people who did not understand you, could not understand you. And the bitterness in Rose's voice gave away that lack of support. But he had to hand it to her. She had grown up with strictly old-fashioned relatives, but still came out with a terrifically open mind. She had to, being so obstinately stuck with her paternal heritage.

"It's interesting how you could possibly make Muggles your life's work, and yet you complain about the ones in your family."

"I don't know if it's really complaining," said Rose. "They are atrociously annoying, I'm forced to live a secret double-life, and I can't do a thing about it. But that's just the way it is. And I was lucky that I was exposed to such a wide range of people, both here and there. I got to see that not everyone is like that. You know, you can't hate the world just because of how you were raised."

Snape wanted to snap at Rose so badly. What did she know? A man had every right to hate the world, for whatever reason he damn well pleased! But what reason did he have for her? It wasn't her fault that he was jacked up on pregnancy hormones at the oddest hours. Unlike her contemporaries, at least she was trying to stay on the right side of his better moods.

'_She's a good kid. Merlin, don't ever let Lupin hear that. I'll never hear the end of it.'_

He might have let Rose continue if he had not casually glanced at the clock. He couldn't keep her that much later, not unless he wanted Minerva to corner him at lunchtime and lecture him like he was still her student. He had to rest, and evidently so did Rose. He didn't need to be told twice. Before the girl could get a word in, he pointed to the storeroom. She ought to write faster now that she had a bar's worth of sugar coursing through her veins.

**~HP~**

_**Just to be clear, I am not trying to offend anyone with my descriptions of Rose's Muggle family. The traditional, conservative background kind of evolved over time as I constructed Rose's character, and I feel it plays into who she eventually turned out to be. Like I said, I only wrote this to provide answers, and that is where I will leave it.**_

_**More to come soon, including more about Rose's parents, and of course, more of Severus's handling of his pregnancy, and of his colleagues. Keep on reading, and keep on reviewing! Thank you!**_


	19. The apple can never fall far

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

"I can't believe I forgot the chapter! Why did I forget that chapter?! Snape's gonna throttle me."

"Ron, relax!" Harry did his best to try to calm his panicking mate as they pushed their way through crowded halls. But the Quidditch Keeper was already long gone. He had let procrastination get the best of him, and that resulted in said mistakenly ignored Potions chapter. The realization only came after overhearing Hermione and Rose discussing the material for that day's double class, which they were currently walking to. "I'll bet you're not the only one. There have to be others who didn't read it."

"I dunno, Harry. Snape has it out for me."

"What makes you think a ridiculous thing like that?" asked Hermione as she squeezed her boyfriend's hand.

"I don't know that either. I can just feel it, have ever since that first week of term. He's just been waiting for the right moment to strike me down."

Harry failed to understand. His emerald eyes squinted under a wrinkled brow. "Your point?"

"Look what happened the – hey, watch it! – the one time Rose didn't do her work."

"It made me prioritize, didn't it?" said Rose from behind Harry, narrowly avoiding the group of fifth year boys that had trampled passed. The Boy-who-lived-twice chuckled. "And then some." Rose's eyes rolled in spite of it.

"She's right, Ron," said Hermione. "I was up out of bed right along with you, and I still managed to finish the reading. It's October, time to look alive."

"It still won't help me in class today."

"You'll be fine," said Harry. Ron shook his head, looking no less cynical. "Ha-ha, I don't think so."

"Ron," Rose pushed herself forward. "Take it from me, you will be. I peeked at Snape's lesson plan while he was in the loo last night. The Antidepressant Draught is complex, but it's not as difficult as it sounds."

"Oh sure, you say that, Miss I-got-a-higher-mark-than-Hermione-Granger."

"Stab me in the heart, why don't you?" Hermione's voice pitched up in her exaggeration. Across the way, Rose was shaking her head, red hair falling over her shoulders. "That'll barely last another week," she said. "Anyway, I don't think you have much to worry about. And Snape seems to be feeling better, so we shouldn't have too much trouble."

"I still wonder what was wrong with him," said Hermione. "What do you think, Rose?"

"I dunno, Mione. If he was ever suffering, he never let me see it. The man is too damn proud for that. And it's not like I ask." Rose let her gaze hit the wall, fibbing in the face of her new batch of besties. _'No one else needs to know what goes on. Why should they?'_

"Hold on, you went through his stuff?" said Harry, almost stopping in his tracks. "Sounds like something Malfoy would do. At that rate, you might be man enough to be one."

"I didn't go through his stuff," the ginger witch half-denied, half-whined. "It was sitting on his desk, a juicy secret just within reach."

"You ever think about doing that more often?" Ron joked, chuckling under his breath.

"No, no, and again, no. I was dancing with the devil when I did that. Why try my luck again, end up getting in trouble all over again? No, no more trouble please."

"Oh yeah, you and Snape are cool now, right?"

"I don't know about that, but it's way better than it was. I actually kind of like it, so I'd rather not mess up."

Both the boys looked at Rose with slow, stunned confusion. Right now, Hermione was thinking about how Rose could have picked a better time and place to drop that on them. In fact, it might have been a better idea to hide behind the mask of utter loathing. "Alright," said Ron. "Who's got you Imperio-ed and what for?"

Rose smirked at those funny stares. "Oh, grow up."

The Potions door was just opening when they approached. Many of the class had already queued up outside, Malfoy and Parkinson at the head of the pack. Rose had done her best to stay out of their way outside class, with Harry sometimes acting as impromptu security. But that didn't stop the female Slytherin from trying to rile her up, especially when a certain greasy professor was nearby. Sure enough, as soon as Rose was within her sights, Parkinson made a move to approach, her lips melting into her face. _'When is she going to get over it?'_ Rose thought.

Neither girl had the time to open her mouth. Harry thrust his arm out in front of Rose in a move to defend. To the surprise of many, including the four Gryffindors, Malfoy did the same for his other half. "Pansy please, not now."

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy." Snape stood in the archway, looking and sounding the calmest in weeks. He surveyed the situation taking place, almost dreading a repeat performance of the now infamous catfight. Good thing Draco and Potter stepped in before he had to. With the two girls blocking the door, he turned to Parkinson and motioned for her to come inside first. Pug-face turned to Rose with a vile grin smeared across her mug. Rose glanced at Snape with a sharp glare. Resentment and jealousy boiled in her stomach. The Slytherins still came first. She thought there was a mutual respect between them, and he jumped at the opportunity to defend the shallow bitch. It wasn't that she thought she was entitled to better treatment. It was just that she wanted to feel that Snape thought as highly of her as she did of him.

The professor looked at her for a moment, his face composed and his stance very much relaxed. He didn't say anything to her, but then he stepped to the side and allowed her to enter next, ahead of the fifteen people behind her. When she passed him, she turned back to his turned head. Maybe he picked up on her thoughts, if he had developed an odd habit of doing that. But she didn't really feel like her mind had been violated. Who knew? Maybe he did regard her as a valued student after all. The clench in her stomach was soothed away by the thought. Unnoticed by her classmates, she smiled.

Suddenly, she was jerked out of her own little world by a shake of her shoulder. Someone had grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her back to the side. A rapid glance revealed it to be Ron. His eyes were the size of saucers, and his breath was completely inaudible. The rigid arms that held onto Rose also held onto Hermione. They both looked out on the work stations. Rose also looked in that direction, just as confused as a few bystanders likely were. The desks were all arranged for the long two hours of brewing ahead. Bottles and jars of ingredients were laid out, and the burners were ready to go. Metal stands waited for their cauldrons. It was nothing out of the ordinary, Rose thought. But then she noticed that in front of every place was a large mason jar, each plugged with a rough cork. Rose did a double take when she got a good look at what those jars contained.

Crawling up the sides of the glass was a big, hairy tarantula, one for each of them. Rose held her breath, quickly turning her attention back to her friend. She wasn't very fond of spiders either, but she couldn't imagine what it was like for Ron. She still wondered how he managed to face hundreds of Aracumantalas without dying of complete fright.

Ron was looking left to right between both girls, his frantic question already in their minds. "What's going on? What are those doing there?"

"I would assume that they're for the lesson," said Hermione in her matter-of-factly nature. She massaged her hand up and down Ron's tense arm. He turned to Rose. "Did you know about this?"

"I didn't think that they would be alive…or whole for that matter."

"You have to be joking!"

"Just get a hold of yourself," said Rose as she tugged her arm back, rubbing away the dull soreness.

"Weasley, Granger, Beckett," Snape's deep voice echoed over to where they stood. "All of you stop gawking and sit down."

Rose was quick to obey, and in seconds, she was sitting down and tying back her hair. Harry jerked his head, beckoning Ron onward. Finally, he let go of Hermione and allowed her to join Rose at their desk in the center of the room. Ron was cautious as he followed suit. Harry watched with a smirk as his friend's eyes darted from side to side, pulling his body in tight to avoid bumping into anything. When he did reach the desk, he was slow to sit. Only after Harry tapped down the cork of the two jars did he slump down. He wanted to be sure that those spiders were going to stay in their glass prisons. Of course, that didn't stop him from tucking his books under his seat, suspended off the ground by the stool's support brackets. Better to keep his stuff off the ground in case one of those nasty buggers broke free.

"Stay cool, mate. It's not the worst we've seen," said Harry. Across the aisle, Rose followed Ron's example. She also pushed her jar away from her.

Snape surveyed his uncomfortable class and sneered, making his way to his desk. It was just a big, hairy spider. What was the big deal? No wonder he loved this lesson.

The Potions master spent the next twenty minutes breaking down the Antidepressant Draught, and how it was more effective than a Cheering Charm because it did not simply heighten your mood. Instead, it balanced out your emotions on a whole, and that would rid a person of depressed thoughts and feelings. Every time he looked up at his students, he couldn't help but notice how Rose listened with full attention, scribbling out delicate notes on parchment. Funny considering that this very lesson came up in their late-night conversations two or three weeks before, and that fact was only made apparent the few times he allowed her to answer one of his questions. But oddly, he could tell that this brightness was sheer interest, and not just sucking up to him. Snape liked that about her. He hardly came across girls like that who didn't drive him up a wall.

"Now," he said. "I'm sure that every one of you has noticed the jars in front of you. I assure you that they were not left out for decoration. One of the key ingredients in this potion is tarantula juices, as described in your books. However, it has been found that the fresher the juices are, the better they are for brewing. That is why your spiders are still alive. Part of your job today is to kill them yourselves, and extract the juices from their abdomens. As a fair warning, I don't want to hear any of you complaining about how you are scared of spiders because frankly, I don't care." Snape shot a look in Ron's direction, making him shudder. "Don't let any of them get free. If you lose them, it will be an automatic fail for the day."

Snape wrapped up his lecture and let the class fend for themselves. Books opened to the appropriate page and burners flicked on. A good several minutes and several ingredients passed by before people started getting to the instruction that more than a few were dreading. The room was soon filled with the sounds of girls squealing and odd squishing. In the Slytherin territory, Goyle and Zabini growled when their tarantulas rapidly rubbed those disgusting hairs off with their rear legs, defensively sending them up into the air in a great puff. Zabini ended up having to wash his eyes out in the sink to get rid of the stinging. It took mere minutes before a jar broke on the stone floor. Girls skirted up onto their stools, shrieking in panic. Ernie Macmillan crawled on the floor after his renegade arachnid. He finally caught it just before he reached the front row, walking back to his seat with distinctly red cheeks.

Rose sat with her feet up off the floor, keeping herself calm and maintaining her own common sense. Staring at the spider in the jar and the knife in her hand, she hesitated. Handling a tarantula with her bare hands was _not _her idea of a good time. But she still knew that in the end, she had to do it, especially with Snape watching her every move. She wasn't fond of anybody seeing her weak points, but he stood before everyone else. But there had to be a better way than this dinky little knife. Then she got an idea.

As Hermione jumbled her spider out of its jar, Rose left her seat and made her way over to the cabinets. She knelt down to look through a drawer. Seven years, and weeks of repetitive cleanings later, she ought to know where it was. The noise attracted the Potions master's attention.

"Miss Beckett, what are you doing?" asked Snape, greatly annoyed to see her rummaging.

Rose found what she was looking for and stood to address her teacher. In her hand was a heavy cleaver. "With all due respect, Professor Snape, if I'm going to kill that thing, I want to make sure that I get it on the first try."

Snape rolled his black eyes to the ceiling, waving her on. Rose returned to her seat with her professor's blessing. She allowed herself a moment to breathe before grasping the jar. She tipped out the tarantula onto the table and let it settle until she was sure that it wasn't going anywhere. Ever so slowly, she rested the edge of the blade over the spider's front half.

_*Crunch*_

Rose clenched her teeth and let go of a weak groan as she inspected her handiwork. She waited for the legs to stop twitching before she reached for her original knife to disembowel the hairy sack. Strands of web stretched between Rose's fingers as she squeezed the sticky, gooey, nasty liquid into her cauldron. She and Hermione quickly moved on with their potions, ready to put that unpleasant experience behind them.

A high yelping distracted them both from their work. Their attention was pulled over to the desk directly to their left. Ron stood frozen by his workstation, not taking his eyes off the desk top. The angry arachnid that he was supposed to be executing was doing its best to get the wizard to piss himself. It perched itself on four legs as it thrust the remaining into the air. There was also a glistening on what turned out to be fangs.

Ron's voice came in broken whimpers, his breath rushed to near hyperventilation. His hands shook, preventing him from even reaching for a knife. "I can't do it," he croaked. "I can't do it, guys."

"Ron, just calm down," said Harry. He had opted to simply jab his knife into his unlucky bug and was waiting for it to finally die, pinned down to the aging wood of the desk. "It's like ripping off a bandage. Just do it quickly and get it over with."

"Try negotiating with that bloody thing! It would be a lot easier if it would come quietly."

Hermione put down the bottle in her hand and leaned in Ron's direction, ducking behind Rose's back. "Come on, Ron. It's not going to kill you. Tarantulas don't even have enough venom to kill a man. It's not worth a failing grade."

"Oh yes, it is!" Ron squeaked.

Harry forcibly sighed. "Get a hold of yourself, Ron. This is ridiculous. You can't do this forever." He looked down at the still bleeding bug and decided that it had perished. He grabbed the knife and pulled it out. Ron didn't take his eyes off the hostile spider. "Shut up, Harry."

"Ron," Rose chimed in, now quite annoyed. "Will you just stop complaining? I'm not thrilled with spiders either and I still did it. Do us all a favor and listen to your girlfriend."

Ron still wasn't moving or showing any sign of listening to his companions. Harry dropped his voice down. "You know that Snape is watching us, right?"

They both looked up to the head desk. The greasy professor was indeed staring them down, taking in their every move. Reluctant pride boiling up in his chest, Ron finally reached for his knife. He made a move for the spider's head. But the retched thing wouldn't give up. Those hairy legs went up again and it let out a sharp hiss. Ron stumbled back, wailing in his throat.

"Oh no! No way, I won't do it!"

Rose snarled. "Oh for crying out –,"

_*Whack*_

Everyone looked up at Rose standing in the aisle, the goo-smeared cleaver in her hand. Ron's spider had been chopped clean in half, the all important abdomen fully separated. The witch looked at Ron with a hard glare. "There, happy now?!" Ron nodded slowly. "Good, now pipe down and get to work. No need to thank me!"

"Settle down, Beckett," Snape shouted, carefully rising from his chair. He pointed at the tense hand grasping the arachnid-slaying weapon. "Put that cleaver away before you dismember one of your classmates." Rose did what she was told, feeling Snape's eyes beating on the back of her head. She made broken eye contact with him on the way back to her seat. She didn't resent his attitude towards her. In hindsight, that was a pretty stupid thing to do. The glares she got from both Hermione and Harry cemented that as truth.

"So that's five points from Gryffindor for Beckett's foolish recklessness," said Snape, deliberately thinking out loud. "And five points for Weasley's inability to complete a task." He ignored the quiet groans, dulled by the day's lesson. He looked at Rose in time to see her lift her eyes up in surrender. She had that coming and they both knew it. Ron meanwhile was left to quietly debate if it was really worth it to lose points.

He quickly decided that since he didn't have to put his hands anywhere near a living tarantula, it was totally worth it!

**~HP~**

The setting sun found Severus in the staffroom. Minerva had invited him for quiet tea, but she wasn't quite ready for him to make the trek up to her office in his delicate condition. Oddly, Severus didn't mind it too much. For some bizarre reason that he could not figure out, he was in a bit of a social mood. And after that interesting, rather humorous lesson, he thought the deputy headmistress should know for herself just how hilarious her students could be.

"So then Beckett grabs the cleaver, raises it over her head, and chops down on Weasley's spider. Dead before she could lift the blade!"

"Oh dear, Severus," said Minerva, shaking her head. "Don't tell me that she mangled it."

"Actually no," Severus took a short sip of tea. He was relaxed back into the sofa with Minerva sitting beside him. The elderly witch had offered to transfigure a footstool for him, but Severus insisted that there was no need to coddle him like that. "For an act of impulsive irritation, it was a surprisingly clean cut. Weasley didn't have to lift a finger."

"He could have lost one! Beckett has always been so careful in what she does. I cannot believe she would do something so foolish."

Severus sighed, tweaking a black brow. "I suspect she gets that from her father."

"Oh, don't remind me!" Minerva laughed. "That boy was nothing but pure irritation the entire time he was here. Compared to Alistair, Rose could be a candidate for sainthood."

"I hate to agree with you, but you might have something there," said Severus. "However, you cannot deny that his daughter has had her moments of spontaneity. Not unlike Alistair at her age."

"I know, Severus. But I hoped that wouldn't go to the extreme of swinging a heavy knife around. And you say that she was angry when this happened?"

"I think she was just annoyed with Weasley's whining. Then again, I can't exactly blame her. The boy's eighteen years old, no need to be so terrified of a spider."

"Severus, everyone and their mother knows that's his worst fear." Remus pushed the door closed behind him. Severus was scowling before so much as glancing at his fellow colleague. "Didn't _your _mother ever teach you it was rude to eavesdrop on other people?"

"Well excuse me, but last I checked, all faculty are welcome in here at their free whim."

"Gentlemen, please!" Minerva held up a firm hand. "I have had enough of this senseless conflict between you two. Frankly, it is more than ridiculous. Severus, you cannot keep jumping down Remus's throat. And Remus, you should know better. I don't want Severus to be put under any stress."

"Too late for that," said Severus, rolling his eyes.

Remus sighed. He wanted to say that Severus would just steamroll over him if he didn't fight back. If he caused the wizard any stress, he was asking for it. "I'm sorry, Minerva. You are absolutely right. The same goes to you, Severus." He helped himself to a cup of tea and sat some distance from the couch.

"I don't believe I told you to sit all the way over there," said Minerva, looking over her shoulder. Severus opened his mouth to protest when she snapped her head back around. "Don't you say a word. He has as much right to be here as we do." Minerva motioned to the empty seat next to the hearth. Cautiously, Remus took his tea over and sat down. He was pleased to notice that Severus seemed to be attempting to control himself in the old woman's presence.

"I know you don't want to hear me say this," he said to the Potions master. "But Minerva's right. You shouldn't be under so much stress nowadays."

"Cut the crap, Lupin. As long as those blundering brats are around, stress is unavoidable."

"But you have been a teacher for a very long time," said Remus. "You know how to control that."

"I used to," Severus reluctantly admitted. "I don't know what it is about everyone, but they're all worse than they were before."

Minerva lightly touched his leg. "Severus, had it ever occurred to you that it might just be you?"

"Yeah," Remus nodded his agreement. "You've got hormones pumping through you like mad."

Severus snarled. What gave these people the idea that if they didn't constantly try to talk about his pregnancy, he would forget about it? His day was going pretty well. He didn't want to end it with those terrible thoughts again. "Don't make this about my condition."

"Your condition makes this more of a priority. You're pregnant, you can't ignore it forever."

"Shut up, Lupin."

"Remus, please," said Minerva, barring any row that might be heading their way. She however turned back to Severus with a stern, but concerned expression. "He is right though, dear. Your body is going through a lot of changes. If you came to terms with those changes, then you wouldn't have so many issues with the other professors and students."

"Sounds easy enough when you say it," said Severus. "If you should be scolding anyone, it's the students."

"Kids will be kids," the werewolf chuckled.

"Oh really, then why does it seem that they're doing everything in their power to make me snap?"

Now Minerva was laughing under her breath. "And that doesn't sound a little paranoid?" The comment made Severus reevaluate his goal in the argument and he sighed his defeat. He set down his teacup to massage his now aching temples. Minerva brought up a hand to help ease his tension. "Severus, as far as I know, no one is deliberately trying to stress you out."

"Put yourself in my place and see what you think." Severus leaned back into the weathered cushions.

"Severus," Remus leaned forward. "I've said this more than enough, but I'm sorry for what happened the other day. Filius and Pomona said that they won't hassle you like that again."

"Now let's see how long that lasts."

"They just worry about you," said Minerva. Severus sluggishly nodded as though to say _I-know._ He let go of another deeply held breath. Remus watched from his seat, draining the last steamy drops in his cup.

"You don't have to look so miserable. It's going to get better."

Severus chose not to look over at the carefully polite wizard. "I have said it before, and I shall say it again. I doubt that."

"Trust me on this one," said Remus. "The further along you get, the better this is going to seem. You know, you ought to take a cue from the Sixth and Seventh years."

"Oh yes, like I need to pay any more attention to Boy-wonder than I already do," said Severus, his eyes rolling and his lip curling.

"No, I'm serious. Most of them have been to Hell and back, and they all seem to have some pretty positive attitudes."

"It's those attitudes that are driving me crazy!"

"Rose Beckett doesn't drive you crazy, and she's pretty optimistic."

"So you two _have _been getting along better," Minerva said with a pleasant smile. "I had hoped that those loose comments were not just rumors. I'm glad that Rose isn't giving you a hard time, deliberately or not."

"That's because she thinks I'm still ill," said Severus.

The elderly witch knocked her head to the side with a tweak in her brow. "She's also a generally nice person. I've known that girl since she was an eleven year-old child. She doesn't force it, it just comes naturally. I just wish that she learn to control that temper of hers. It gets her into the nastiest of predicaments."

"We know, Minerva. We know." Remus chuckled to himself. Severus also smirked, letting his thoughts wander to the red-haired Gryffindor. He'd been thinking about that class for part of the afternoon. Her actions were drastic to put it lightly. But there was something about it that got his attention and held on. "She would make Alistair proud, wouldn't she?" In their relative privacy, Severus shared a laugh with his two colleagues, feeling no desire to wall himself up.

**~HP~**

For the tenth time in four weeks, Rose was made to scrub the desks in the Potions classroom. This time, however, there was just cause and very good reason. The Seventh year arachnid encounter had left the wooden surfaces with a sticky, congealed layer of spider juices. This was ultimately made worse by the following class. Now there were corners of parchment stuck to it, and even a whole quill had been left behind covered in the stuff. Rose thanked Merlin that this time, Snape presented her with a bottle of _Mrs. Scower's Magical Mess Remover. _He knew from past experience that this was a hard potion to clean up after.

"You should know that your Head of House was not pleased to hear of your fancy knife work," said Snape, grading a stack of essays at his desk. "Call it a hunch, but I think it's safe to say that she did not mind losing points this time."

"Ah Professor Snape, please don't do that," Rose pleaded, though with more humor than distress. "I already got a good whipping from Hermione."

"In that case, I hope you learned your lesson and think before you act."

"I know, I know. It was a stupid idea, and I could have cut Ron's hand off. I've been getting it all night." Rose almost had to get on her knees to get the right leverage to scrub the thick goo off. Her words were also hardened by the effort. "Merlin, this is disgusting! Professor, why do you make us kill the tarantulas? It would make all of our lives easier if we just used dead ones."

Snape cocked a black brow at her. "Now Beckett, where's the fun in that?"

"Fun?" laughed Rose. "That was not fun in the slightest, and I've got nine other people to back me up."

"Who said I was talking about you?"

Rose laughed harder, her professor smirking at her from across the room. Neither paid much notice to the lack of tension between them. "Cruel...really, really cruel." These are people's fears we're dealing with, Rose thought. But she dropped the argument without putting up that fight. She would probably come out the loser anyway.

"I must say, Miss Beckett," said Snape. "All idiocy aside, that was an impressive job. I don't ever want you to try and pull a stunt like that again, but I couldn't help but notice how precise that cut was."

Rose blushed as she smiled. "Lucky chop. Believe me, I was a bit testy, but I really was trying to help Ron."

"There's a fine line between helping and coddling."

"It shut him up, didn't it?"

Snape nodded. "That it did, and I do thank you for that. A boy of his age should not be reduced to a whimpering child by a spider. Come to think of it, you didn't look too thrilled yourself."

"No, I don't like spiders that much," said Rose, shaking her head. "Never have, really. I'm not sure why."

"You managed through today's lesson. It cannot possibly be so bad for you compared to Weasley."

"Can you offer another explanation as to why I went for the cleaver?" Snape thought for a moment, but realized that anything he said would be met with stark defense. He went back to the god awful essay in his hands. Rose shook her head. "I didn't think so. It really was that nasty and unnerving to me. But hey, at least I killed the bloody things."

"Yes, yes, you did," said Snape. "Of course, as an aspiring potioneer, that is certainly not the worst you will encounter."

Rose wiped away the remains of the cleaning potion. "I've assumed that much. It still gives me the creeps though. You know, I almost asked Hermione to do it for me."

"Oh really, and what stopped you?"

"I don't know. I guess I didn't want anyone to think that I was scared of a little bug…alright, a big bug. Parkinson and Malfoy give me a hard time as it is. I don't want to provide them with any more inspiration in their continuing pursuit to drive me to Bedlam."

Snape looked up to study her face. He had an odd feeling that Rose was withholding something from him. "Is that all?" he asked.

"In a sense, yeah." Rose went from table to table, wiping down the soggy tops. She calmly explained herself as she went, glancing at Snape every odd minute. "Look Professor, I'm a Gryffindor. When we get scared, people make fun of us. It's like we can control that. I find that in the long run, facing fear is the best thing to do. It gets people off your back, and you feel good afterward."

"How valiant of you," said Snape, smirking in his own sarcasm. But it just wasn't the same sarcasm he would have used with any other person. It was good that she didn't let her personal likings or otherwise get in the way of her task. Yes, good on her!

"Yep, I'd have to die before becoming a simpering coward." Rose smiled pleasantly. "My mother raised me better than that."

"Your mother?"

"Yeah, she always said that when life rears its ugly head, you've got to stand your ground. Life is just better when you have nothing standing in your way." Rose walked over to the sink, carrying her heavy bucket, to dump out the soapy, fumy water. She felt Snape's eyes follow her and felt no sinister shiver. Her back turned, Rose reveled in this quiet attention. "Your mother sounds like a classy lady," she heard him her professor say. But what he got was a shaking head and swaying red hair.

"She certainly would appear that way," said Rose, turning on the faucet to refill the bucket. "I get that all the time back in Kent. But those people don't live with her. Meadow Hill is a small town and yet hardly anyone knows her like I do."

"What do you mean by that?" Snape asked, just hanging onto the tension cutting tone. Rose turned to lean against the aging brim. The humor that had been in her voice and face was suddenly gone.

"Sir, my mother is a raving lunatic." Snape wanted to laugh, but the look on Rose's face said, without words, that it was no joke. She was looking at him with eyes that spoke to him with such utter vulnerability and sincerity. He set aside his work and leaned on his desk as he listened to her. "She's very straight forward, and she's always been very set in her ways. She might be more freelance than the rest of her family, but really, she's not that far off. I don't quote her like that because she touches my spirit. I quote her because I hear it so much. And it's a wonder that I have little bouts of paranoia."

The wizard was very skeptical. Many eighteen year olds thought their parents were crazy. He thought his were when he was eight! "She can't be that bad."

"Oh yeah? Sit down and have a chat with her sometime, and then tell me what you think." Rose grasped the bucket handle and hauled it over to the desks. She then proceeded to clean them a second time, one by one, for good measure. It seemed that she was secretly wishing that the conversation would end, and Snape found that a bit troubling.

"She wasn't hard on you, was she?"

"No, not really. I guess it depends on what you mean by hard" Rose still didn't look up. She just kept scrubbing away. "But she can be a challenge to live with some days. She's just really stubborn sometimes. She had a lot of expectations for me, and her word is law in our house. Oh, it only got a little better when I started at Hogwarts."

The Potions master could smell the bitterness radiating off the young witch. A familiar pang tweaked at his insides. "How does she feel about magic?"

"I guess you could say she's indifferent," said Rose. "I mean, she knows it's there, she accepts it. But she just chooses to ignore it. She doesn't like it when I talk about my magic, never wants to hear about what I do in school. Even when I've done something I'm really proud of, she doesn't really listen. Mum always wanted to keep my school life and my home life separate."

"That has to be frustrating," Snape said, trying to be of some help. After all, he had sensed the night before that a double life was not what Rose really wanted.

"More than that," Rose turned to face Snape. She sat down on a nearby stool. "I understand that she's a Muggle, and that she grew up believing that real magic didn't exist. But the fact is that she gave birth to a witch. She knew that the entire time she was with my dad, and there was no way around that. Not to mention that she demanded custody when they broke up. The least she could do is show a little interest in what I'm doing with myself. The fact that she doesn't… I won't lie, Professor. That hurts."

Snape lowered his eyes and sighed. "I can imagine." He could relate is more he liked it.

Rose shook her head, propping an elbow on soggy wood. "I'm sorry, sir. That was more than you needed to hear."

"It's alright, Miss Beckett. When you are Head of House, it comes with the territory." Snape offered Rose a weak, half-smile. Since he wasn't expecting any reaction, he was surprised by the warm smile he got in return. "She expected a lot from you. What do you mean by that?"

Rose paused, leaning further into the table. The cuffs of her rolled sleeves soaked in remnants of water. "I don't think I should say," she said, caution weighing down her tone.

"This won't leave the room." Snape waited, but Rose simply stared at him. To him, she almost looked like the scared little child who first walked into his classroom all those years before. "What, don't you trust me?"

"I didn't always."

Snape's face fell. He wondered why it bothered him that he always had Rose's respect, but not her trust. Hell, _nobody_ trusted him a year ago! Perhaps it was his newfound fondness for her messing with his mind. "You have my word."

Rose rolled her eyes away. "Aye, you don't give up easily. You're not much better than Hermione." She thought for a moment, weighing out all the possibilities. But when she realized that as far as she knew, Snape hadn't yet disclosed anything she had said before, she gave in. "Mum always had this thing about being a proper lady. I guess it's left over from my grandmother. For whatever reason, she said I owed it to her and the rest of the family to grow up to be the best woman I could."

"It seems to me that you've done a fairly decent job at that," said Snape.

"Thank you, Professor, but that's your opinion," Rose responded, drawing swirly designs into the drying layer of water with her fingertips. "As I said, she wanted to keep my two lives separate. What I did when I was with my dad was my business. But that was only so many days out of the year. The rest of the time, I had to live up to her standards."

"Standards?" The dark-haired wizard pushed away his stack of half-graded papers.

"Yes, standards. For one, she always wanted me to be the picture of English manners. She even sent me to finishing school when I was nine. Well, that dream died when I started using…less than polite language. To this day, she blames Dad for that. He had nothing to do with it, I assure you. She's also wanted me to excel at school, in every class I took. I know every parent wants that for their children, but when I got Bs in primary school, she said I could do better. She pushed me to get good marks, and I couldn't always do that. I like to think I'm clever, but I'm no genius. I don't even excel at everything I do here."

"She hasn't seen your O.W.L. marks, has she?"

Rose cocked an irked eyebrow. "How do you know about my O.W.L. marks?"

"I don't, I just thought to ask." Good save, Snape told himself. It wasn't quite a lie. He obviously knew about the O she received for his class, in addition to what the late Charity Burbage called the first O for Muggle Studies in three years.

"Even if she knew that an O is the highest you can get, I think she would still be disappointed that I only got two. A good few Es wouldn't be good enough for her daughter. Oh, and on top of that, she wanted me to be a social butterfly. But you know, the problem with living in a small village is that it's hard to really connect with people. Not to mention that a life like mine makes it all the more difficult. I was the local divorce-baby after all. That was before magic started making me look and feel strange around the other children. And to be honest, I was rather shy when I was little. I had only had two or three friends back in the day."

"I find that hard to believe."

"It's true. It was Hogwarts that made me outgoing. However, every time I tell her about Harry, Hermione, or the others, she asks me why I can't do that in Meadow Hill. It's like my school friends don't count."

"She's a Muggle," Snape suggested. "She probably wants you to associate more with her kind."

"Professor Snape, you're probably right. She doesn't talk about them like they're wizards either, even Harry! I'm friends with the Boy-who-lived, and to her, he's just the Boy. She could at least acknowledge that he saved us all." Rose was halted by a pale, sickly hand.

"Miss Beckett…please," Snape warned.

"Oh…sorry sir," said Rose. That's right, don't bring up Harry. Bad idea! "I'm glad Mum's never met any of my friends. I think they'd have to surrender their wands at the door. She makes me keep mine hidden away during the summer."

Snape arched an eyebrow at Rose. "How old are you, exactly?"

"Eighteen,"

"Then in the eyes of the Ministry, you are a capable adult. Your mother can't necessarily control you or your magic."

"Not unless she has things her way," said Rose. "She always tries to tell me that I can't depend on charms, it's unreliable."

Snape snickered at that, catching his laughter at the back of this throat and further muffling it behind pressed lips. "Unreliable? If that's not Muggle ignorance, I don't what is."

"Told you…lunatic." Rose stood up and came around the desk. "My seventeenth birthday didn't stop her from trying to prove a point. I had to do everything the Muggle way, underage or not. She especially hates the _Accio _charm, calls it the laziest thing she's ever seen."

"You've used it to summon things without getting off the sofa, haven't you?"

Rose awkwardly looked away, suddenly deciding it was a great time to get back to work. She dunked her hand into her bucket to look for her brush. "Maybe once or twice." Snape laughed into his hand, and Rose spun around to jab a thin finger at him. "Oh, you're laughing? You've done that too! But really sir, how do you think I got so quick at cleaning tables and floors?"

"I would have assumed that it was because you were stubborn and eager to please."

"I wish,"

Snape watched as Rose rushed to finish the desks. The poor thing looked terribly uncomfortable, like her mother knew that she was talking about her. It certainly wasn't fear, but there was some shame or guilt in that haste. Snape couldn't help but wonder how often Rose talked about how patronizing her mother was, because the way she was acting now suggested it wasn't something she took to easily. Noticing the time, he tried to go back to his work. "Forgive me, but that sounds tremendously annoying."

"Tell me something I don't know," said Rose. "No matter what I do, it never seems to be enough. What do I have to do to make her truly proud to be my mother, an act of God?"

"With what you've said of your family, it wouldn't surprise me. But witch or not, you're still her daughter. She must at least love you for that." Snape had to shut himself up. Where in the hell did that come from all of a sudden?

"Oh, I know she loves me. In her words, I'm her baby and nothing can take that away from her. She might be off her rocker, but she's still a good mother. I don't think there was ever a time when I thought she was a bad parent. Thank God…all we've got is each other. No, I love that woman to death. I just wish that she accepted me completely not just as her blood, but as a witch as well." Dripping brush in hand, Rose made a move for the last workstation.

"Well, you have your father for that, don't you?"

There was a sharp clack as the brush hit the floor, fallen from Rose's grasp. The Gryffindor slowly bent over to pick it up, not looking at her Slytherin teacher. "Professor, how well do you know my father?"

"Not as well as I did before the lot of you were born," Snape admitted.

"So…you don't talk to him much?"

"No, not much. Why, what does he say?"

"Probably that there isn't a thing about me he could be proud of. I wouldn't know; it's my understanding that he doesn't talk about me much anyway."

"Now Miss –,"

"No!" Rose barked, forgetting her place. "Don't do that. I say it because it's true. Every time I saw him, it was the same thing. _"You made Gryffindor, what a shame. Now you've ruined the family tradition of Slytherin." "You're wasting your time with Muggles. They are completely useless." "You know that you can never be as talented as a pure-blood." _Well, whose bloody fault is that? She may not be happy with them, but at least my mother could accept my shortcomings. With him, there's no point. I can't argue with that logic, can I?"

Snape didn't know what to say to that. He knew that this girl had some very good qualities, though he still could not bring himself to voice that to her. But at the same time, he did know Alistair. He was another one of those mules with no sense of compromise. He remembered him as a particularly pesky example of Slytherin pride, hanging off the ankles of soon-to-be Death Eaters. And like the Malfoys and the Lestranges before him, he was simply the product of years-old pure-blood Beckett traditions. So it was just unfortunate that his daughter turned out to be everything he grew up detesting.

"He hasn't supported you in anything?"

"Nothing," said Rose, a certain tension constricting her voice box. "Everything I do is wrong to him. It's gotten to the point where I just stopped talking about my ventures because he'll have something to say. I haven't even bothered with writing to him since he's been in Azkaban. Lord knows he doesn't want to hear it. Mum congratulated me when I made the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He'd say that if I was any good at the game, I'd have a full spot."

"He might say that," said Snape. "But I think it would have more to do with the fact that he never made the team when he was here."

"Right," Rose sneered, not convinced in the slightest. "I don't even know why I bother. That man has never really treated me like he should have, like he was a proud father. I was his only child, and he treats me like I'm second rate."

"If I didn't know any better, I would say he was ashamed of you." He honestly didn't mean it as an insult. It was the glare and the gleam in Rose's eyes that made Snape realize his mistake.

"I wouldn't put it past me."

"Aww, Beckett…"

"No, it's totally believable. I'm obviously not the child he wanted, and I doubt he can see my worth. And I never heard from him when he didn't have me with him. Why else would he contact me unless the courts told him so?"

Snape eased himself to his feet and came around to lean on his desk. Rose pushed past him with the basin of filthy water and once again dumped into the sink. She blew away her built up emotions. "May I say something?" asked Snape, drawing her attention. Rose nodded her permission. "What your parents think should not matter to you."

"Why? They're my parents."

"Because in the end, it's not really that important. Yes, there is probable cause that your father would have preferred you in Slytherin. And yes, it can be hard to live with a Muggle of that irritating sort. But look at it this way. You had to get your stubbornness somewhere."

"Professor Snape, what are you saying?" asked a confused Rose.

"That you did not let your parents influence you too much. They both sound like people who want children to be miniature versions of themselves. But you are what you are, no matter what people do to try and change that. I have no idea what made you do this, but you turned out to be terrifically open-minded for such a biased birthright."

"You mean how my father's a pure-blood Slytherin, and yet I love muggles, and how my mother's a Muggle, yet wizards come first?"

"Exactly," said Snape. "In this day and age, you don't really come across people like that. In the time you've spent away from your family, you learned to go about life the way you see fit, not your family. And if you ask me, that is quite admirable of you." He slowly approached Rose and rested a hand on her shoulder. "For my sake, please don't ever repeat that."

A smile tweaked at the corners of Rose's mouth. "Not even to Hermione?"

"Dear god, no. Granger already looks at me like I'm some sort of charity case, like I'm slowly losing my mind. You wouldn't want to make that worse, would you?"

"I guess not," Rose giggled slightly. "You know, you might be right. Professor, you give some good advice. You ought to do it more often."

"I take them as they come." Snape grabbed the dirty rag resting beside the discarded bucket. "And with the likes of your house, it's a rare privilege." Rose planted a hand on her hip, Cassandra's influence suddenly shining on through. "I suppose I should be grateful for that," she said.

"Careful what you say, brat." Snape tossed her the rag, not deterred by her amused grin.

**~HP~**

_**I'd like to dedicate this chapter to all those who, like me, have a irrational fear of spiders, and enjoy getting the sweet taste of revenge when it wanders by.**_

_**Keep on reading, and keep on reviewing. Thanks!**_


	20. If I make good

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Hey, just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who have read the story thus far. Thank you to those of you who are following, and though some of your reviews perplex me with their repeated negativity and make me wonder why you keep coming back to read more (I think you know who you are, if you're reading this right now) I appreciate all of them.**

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Anyhow, a little note about this chapter. The title is taken from a line in the song "The Wizard and I" from the musical Wicked. I confess, in my real life, I am a mondo musical nerd, and I was listening to that soundtrack the entire time I was writing this. If anyone out there knows the show as well as I do, I really hope you don't start hearing Idina Menzel's voice over Severus and Rose.**

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Enjoy!**

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with trainers on her feet, Rose pushed her way against the flow of people rushing through the halls. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and everyone was in a mass migration out to the grounds. She however was on the familiar path down to the dungeons. In a move as unexpected as it was aggravating, Snape had decided to call her down much earlier than they were used to, using the weekend to his advantage. She had nothing better to do, he had said, so why not? Clearly, he had either forgotten or was just plain ignoring that she had a life outside classes. It broke her heart to explain to Harry that she would have to miss Quidditch practice. Wanting to give Snape the benefit of the doubt, Rose hoped that she was right when she told the Head Boy that this would be another one time deal.

She had expected that Snape would be waiting for her when she got there, ready to hammer her about why she didn't get there sooner. So it surprised her to arrive at the Potions classroom and find a closed door. A test of the handle revealed it to be locked. This was strange; Snape told her to be there at eleven o'clock, and she was right on time. She reached for her wand. "_Alohamora,_" Nothing…oh, so it was more than just his office to be impregnable. Maybe Snape was running a little behind that morning. He was a Head of House after all. So rather reluctantly, she leaned up against the wall beside the door.

She waited… and waited… and waited. Standing by the door became sitting on the floor. A tapping foot became twiddling thumbs. If only she had some parchment to doodle on. All the while, she tried to ignore the sneers she realized were flying by her. Rose kept compulsively looking at her silver watch every time five minutes passed. Where the hell was Snape? He was hardly ever late, let alone this late. Had something happened with another student? Did he get caught up in some of his work? Was he okay? Every possibility found its way onto Rose's train of thought. Finally after forty minutes, she pushed herself to her feet. She had to go find McGonagall. Perhaps she had an explanation for this.

As luck would have it, she ran into Flitwick on the way upstairs. He told her to head for the Transfiguration office. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Rose jogged up the steps until she reached the first floor. She stopped for only a few minutes to catch her breath, supported against a suit of armor. But then she carried on her way, reaching her destination in no time at all. After another quick breath, she knocked on the door. It swung open on its own.

"Miss Beckett," said McGonagall, sitting at her desk. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at practice?"

"Actually Professor, about that. Professor Snape apparently decided that my continued punishment is more important than Quidditch."

The Head of Gryffindor house gave a long sigh with a shake of her head. "Oh good Merlin, so he did do it after all. Drat, he knows reserves are just as important as main players. Well dear, if you came here to get me to change his mind for you, I can't. He has the right to do this, as you know well. I will speak to him later, so hopefully this doesn't become a habit. But for now, the team can get along without you. Now get going, I'm sure you are already late."

"That's kind of why I'm here." Rose shifted where she stood, her trainers squeaking on the wood floor. "Professor Snape told me to report at eleven, and I did. I waited outside his classroom for over half an hour. It's now fifteen minutes to twelve, and he still hasn't shown up."

She noticed the sudden look of growing concern in her teacher's face, and that irked her more than she already was. "You haven't seen him at all today?" asked McGonagall.

"No, he wasn't at breakfast. Why, what's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, it's just unusual for him." The older witch composed herself and rose to her feet. She ushered the student out of the door. "Come with me. We'll sort this out."

They journeyed back down to the castle's lower levels, Rose following behind McGonagall the entire time. She couldn't help but notice how quick the old woman's pace was. More concern riled up in her stomach. If she didn't have much reason to worry before, she certainly did now.

McGonagall led Rose down the stairs, through the dank halls, past the Potions classroom, and finally came to a stop outside a single wooden door. Rose quickly assumed that this was the entrance to Snape's personal quarters, impassable to all but a few. McGonagall briefly turned to her. "You wait here." She opened the door and quietly went inside. It came to a creaky close. Rose looked around, feeling a little awkward. The Bloody Baron floated passed her with a snide glance. He soon disappeared through a solid wall, once again leaving Rose alone. Feeling the blush coming on, Rose took her place against the wall.

**~HP~**

Severus rarely got what he could call good sleep. Being pregnant certainly had not helped that problem. If it wasn't the early risings brought on by the need to be sick, it was the long hours of lying awake, his mind too cluttered to relax. With no one else around, the only thing he could really think about was the developing baby. Those thoughts led to the silent despair for his predicament. He knew it was going to take quite some time before he accepted his condition, but he wished that he didn't have to sit up at night and wonder what the not-too-distant future held for him.

Fully exhausted after a long week, Severus decided to start his weekend by lying in, ignoring his impulse to rise early in the morning. He thought that a few more hours of sleep would do him some good. That counted as taking care of himself, right? The headmaster would be pleased. He doubted that he was expected at breakfast anyway.

He was sound asleep on his stomach, with his head under his pillow and his mouth open when his bedroom door opened with a loud, painful creak. Paralyzed by his total comfort, Severus responded to this intrusion with a low moan. His hands came up from under the covers to further bury his head under smothering cloth and feathers.

"Severus," he thought he heard Minerva's voice say. It was too quiet to tell if it was real or a figment of his imagination. He assumed he was dreaming because he didn't move. He just relaxed further into the mattress, exhaling through his dry mouth. "Severus?" Was that clicking and swishing? Still he gave no answer. "Severus!"

The drowsy wizard was finally roused by a good, hearty smack to his leg. Still too groggy to express full irritation, Severus slowly rolled over onto his back, letting the pillow fall away. "Wha…what?" he yawned, blinking despite the drawn curtains.

"Get up out of bed this instant," Minerva scolded at the side of the bed. Her arms were crossed across her body. But Severus wasn't going to take this too seriously. He eased back onto his side, pulling the covers over his shoulder.

"Leave me alone, Minerva," he moaned, closing his tired eyes. "Let a man sleep."

"You've slept long enough." Minerva walked over to the lone window and pulled back the shades, letting in a stream of light that hit Severus's face directly. Like one of his lazy teenaged students, he yanked the covers over his face. "Don't you know what time it is?"

"I dunno, nine? Ten?"

"It's nearly noon." That did the trick. Amazed that he had managed to sleep that long, Severus sat up in bed. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as Minerva walked back over to stand at his bedpost. "What's gotten into you?" she asked. "You never sleep so late."

"I was just overly exhausted," said Severus. "It's Saturday, I can sleep in if I want to."

"That is true, but this is a bit absurd. You cannot spend the entire morning sleeping, whether you have classes or not. And do you know how worried you had me when no one saw you this morning? How are we to know that something hasn't happened to you?"

"I'm alright, Minerva. If you ask me, you should be glad that I was sleeping instead of throwing up."

"That doesn't make me any less worried," said Minerva. "It's not the extra hours of sleep that bother me. Poppy tells me that it's normal for this stage of pregnancy. It's that you are letting yourself get to this point. If you didn't push yourself so hard during the week, then you wouldn't need to make up for it now."

"I'm not changing how I live my life."

"I hate to tell you this, but you don't have much choice. It's obvious to me that the baby is taking a lot out of you. This is your body trying to tell you to get more rest, like what Remus and I have been saying."

"Minerva," Severus interrupted. "Have you just come down here to lecture me, or is there something else you have on your mind?"

The witch's look of motherly concern disappeared to be replaced by the stern teacher Severus remembered from his youth. "Actually, I came down here to see why you hadn't followed through on your duties this morning."

"Duties?" asked Severus, his mind still cloudy from slumber.

"Have you forgotten Miss Beckett's detention? You did tell her that you wanted her early today, did you not?"

It took a few seconds of hard thinking before Severus remembered that he did indeed say that. But then he looked at the clock and realized how late he was. He should have met her an hour ago! Severus threw back the sheets and scrambled to his feet. He rushed over to his wardrobe, throwing open the doors. "Shit! Shit, shit! She's had an hour. The little Muggle-loving brat has probably taken off already. Now, I'll have to go after her!" Robes in hand, Severus glanced out of the tiny window. "There's a Gryffindor practice going on, isn't there? If she's in the air with Potter, I'll have both their guts for garters!"

"Severus," Minerva said, coming up behind him to touch his arm. "She's outside."

Severus's frantic rants were halted by her words. He turned his head to his older colleague. "What?"

"She's waiting outside for you. Actually, she's been waiting for quite some time. She came to find me when you failed to turn up."

"She did?" asked Severus, surprised.

"Yes, and she did pass up Quidditch practice for you. She had plenty of opportunity to run off, and she decided against it. You don't find many students who do that."

"Any responsible Seventh year would do that."

"My point exactly, they only make up a small fraction of the student body." Minerva calmly stepped away. She could see the slight stain of embarrassment in Severus's cheeks. "Anyway, you should appreciate that she's been waiting for over an hour. If anything, do it for me. It's not exactly my idea to have a somewhat unpracticed reserve player filling in for one of my chasers." She disregarded the sneering roll in Severus's eyes. "Also, please think about your emotions. I can see that you're testy right now, I'm sorry if it's because I woke you up. But don't take anything out on her."

"I know. She's a decent human being, she doesn't deserve it," said Severus, his lack of enthusiasm stretching his words.

"That and she's already suffered enough because of your hormones," Minerva chided. "Now get dressed. I'll make sure Beckett doesn't go anywhere. I also want you to eat something. No skipping meals, remember?"

"Yes mother!" Severus droned sarcastically as the elderly witch left through the bedroom door. He listened as she walked the length of his rooms and out the front door. From there, he could hear her talking to the student outside. "He'll be with you in a moment."

He changed quickly into his dark robes and sturdy black boots. Adrenaline coursed through his body, speeding his heart and quickening his breath. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the image of a frantic white rabbit with a pocket watch suddenly appeared. Merlin, he had to stop eavesdropping on Cassandra's teatime conversations. He took a moment to calm himself, telling himself that he had nothing to worry about. This was Rose Beckett he was dealing with. She had already done enough for him by waiting so diligently. It helped that with her help, this would turn out to be an easy day. The thought of Rose's presence calmed Severus, as though he was looking forward to seeing her.

Then again, maybe he was…

He wasn't going to ignore Minerva's orders for him to eat because his stomach would not let him. For once, the dull aches were from hunger, for which Severus was most relieved. After rummaging around his rooms for a minute or two, he decided that a moderately sweet apple would do. He crunched down, releasing the juices inside. He reveled in the taste as he pulled open the door and stepped into the dungeon hall. Rose sat on the floor against the opposing wall, hands cradling her bent knees. She looked up with attentive blue eyes.

"Good day, Miss Beckett," he said, swallowing that first bite. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Rose smiled. "That's alright, sir. I don't mind." She noticed the obvious smirk that Snape gave her. Evidently, he knew she would rather be somewhere else at that moment. But since she wasn't exactly in the bowels of Hell, Rose didn't fight it. She had to have it coming sometime. You mess around, you miss Quidditch. "What took you so long?"

"If you must know, I had work to attend to. I just lost track of the time."

"Reasonable enough," said Rose, hoisting herself up off the dirty floor. She brushed the dust off the backside of her jeans.

"Or so you say. I know what is going on outside. I doubt that you have been enjoying missing that Gryffindor mêlée for no reason."

Rose cocked her head to Snape. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, and thank you once again for being on time. Now come, we have work to do."

"Professor," Rose spoke up as the two of them started down the hall. "If I may ask, when will we be done for the day?"

"Trust me Beckett, your little team's practice will be well over by the time I'm through with you." Rose groaned, drawing a not-so-sinister sneer out of Snape.

**~HP~**

With no classes going on, the Potions master and his student were given free reign of Pomona Sprout's greenhouses to collect a new inventory of herbs and plants. At first, Snape didn't know how the student stores had managed to get so cleaned out in such a short amount of time. It made much more sense after Rose casually suggested that other people were doing what she had done, using the ingredients for potions found in the pages of magazines. Experimenting when they should be studying. Pathetic and reckless, Snape thought.

It was simple enough. Rose would walk up and down the rows of pots, clipping and digging up what they needed, while Snape took notes of what she gathered. Baskets gradually collected at his feet. Sprout had offered to stay and help, but Snape waved her on. He was in good health, and even if he was not, that's what the ginger girl was for. She reluctantly left them to their work.

The Quidditch pitch was within view, and every now and then, Rose would look up to watch what was happing. She had to confess, it was rather amusing to watch Dean and Fourth year Emily Block play two-on-one against Demelza.

"Don't get your wand in a knot. They are managing without you," she heard Snape say behind her. "Besides, chances are that you won't see a game anyway."

"I know that," said Rose. "It just drives me mad knowing that I should be out there with them. Start of the season's not far off, you know."

"You never before seemed one for the game. Where did all this enthusiasm come from?"

"I've always followed Quidditch. I've almost never missed a game here. I just got more into it when I made the team."

"From quiet bystander to aspiring sports champion," said Snape, going down his handwritten list. He wiped away the sweat that was forming on his temples. Even in October, those houses were like natural saunas. "Beckett, you never fail to confuse me."

"Oh no, Professor. I don't think I was ever destined to be a star Quidditch player. I'll leave that to others. Honestly, I only tried out for the team because Harry asked me to. I know you don't like him, but he can be tough to say no to."

"I seem to remember Professor McGonagall mentioning that you tried out once before. Did someone have to talk you into it then?"

"Yes, I did, and no. That was when I was young and dumb. Oliver Wood was right to turn me away."

"Then why try out this time? Potter is not _that_ indisputable."

Rose grasped a small hand shovel to dig up the roots of a patch of daisy plants. "I needed something else to do. I'm sorry, but I didn't want to spend my last year at school as a slave to the books. With many of my best friends gone, it seemed like a good idea."

Snape shot her an inquiring look. "You play for the camaraderie, not the glory of it all?"

"Yes, you can say that. Really Professor, I thought you knew me by now."

How could he? It seemed that every time Snape encountered Rose, he learned something about her that changed his perception of her. Every time they met, she became less and less the bratty child he once thought to call her. It was always an experience to interact with the grown students. But there was always something about Rose that got his attention in a way unlike his little snakes. As maddening as it seemed at the time, she deserved to be heard, and she was worth listening to.

"Might I ask you a question?" asked Snape.

"Sure, go ahead," said Rose.

"What do you want?"

Rose turned a dirty cheek to the Potions master. "Excuse me?"

"Tell me, what is it you want from your life?"

"Like career-wise?" asked Rose as she wrinkled her eyebrow, sure that the answer was clear enough. Snape shook his head. "Beckett, I think you know as well as I do that there is more to life than work."

'_You're telling me,' _Rose thought to herself, glancing at the dots flying around the distant sky. She continued on with her digging, thinking as she went. The last time she got that question, it was in her aptitude meeting with McGonagall. As far as she knew, it generally wasn't a question that teachers brought up in casual company, especially if that teacher was Severus Snape. She kept looking back at him as she carefully clipped off the delicate roots. "I guess the same thing a lot of people want; to make the most of what I have, and use it for good. It's not that important, but if I go to bed knowing that I made a difference in someone else's day, I sleep easier."

"You enjoy helping people?"

"If I can, even if it's the smallest of things. I know, how very Gryffindor-ish of me." Rose carried over her basket of daisy root. Snape briefly glanced in and wrote something on his parchment.

"Dig up three more plants," he said, and Rose promptly obeyed. "Suddenly, the whole Muggle thing makes more sense."

"It does, doesn't it?" said Rose. "Sir, You-know-who is dead. They burned his body and he's never coming back. We are on the verge of a new era, and yes, I want to be a part of that."

Snape sat down on a nearby bench. "I've noticed that you seem to put others before yourself, all ego aside. Why is that?" Rose turned to him, trying her best to wipe away the dirt smeared across her cheek. "Because maybe I like to feel appreciated from time to time. Not praised, just appreciated."

"Because you feel that you do not get enough?"

"Not always…" The young witch's voice suddenly seemed to shrink. She busied herself with the pots in front of her. "The odd compliment around my village was alright, but to me, it felt like weeks passed between them. My home life didn't do much to help either. You know, that was one thing I was looking forward to when I started school."

"What do you mean?" asked Snape.

"For the first eleven years of my life, I always had a feeling like I really didn't belong there. I made strange things happen, and no one could explain it. Do you know how people look at you when you walk by a jar of tomato sauce in the market and it suddenly explodes? Or when solid objects just vanish into thin air around you? When my acceptance letter came, my dad had to explain it all to me. I don't think he wanted to, but it was a bit of a tough spot for my mum. I mean, how could she explain a world that she's never seen?" Rose paused to let the Potions master nod his agreement. "The more he told me, the more everything made sense. I wasn't mental, I was a witch. And it wasn't just me, it was also him! To hear that there were a whole lot of us out there… Professor Snape, you have no idea how relieved I was. I felt like I didn't belong in Meadow Hill because…because I didn't!"

"Why were you never told that your father was a wizard?"

"I don't know. I wish I did, and Lord knows that. Being divorced, I guess Mum just wanted to protect me for as long as she could. But it was bound to happen eventually, we all know that. And he had as much right to force his lifestyle on me as she did." Rose collected the little pile of roots in her hands, brought them over to Snape, and presented them to him. The dark-haired wizard rose and pointed her to the door which took them to the next greenhouse. Rose went for the collection of Hellebore plants as soon as she entered, and Snape shut the door behind them.

"You know, Miss Beckett," he said, leaning up against the wall by the door. "For a girl who spent her life living as a Muggle with no clue about her own parent's abilities, you seem to have taken having your world ripped out from under you quite well."

"That's because I saw so much potential in my new life. I knew that right from the day I got my wand." Rose had her back turned, reaching for an army knife she had in her back pocket. "It was so much better than Meadow Hill. At Hogwarts, I knew I was in a place where I fit in. For once, at least in most cases, my last name didn't change how people looked at me. I didn't have to walk around and feel like I was strange. As much as I like working with Muggle culture, it's much easier to interact with them while looking through very different eyes. I'll be honest, Professor…when I'm here, I'm much happier than at home."

Snape listened carefully, watching Rose's blissful face. It was touching to see the hope that radiated from her, but she obviously didn't know how lucky she was. She didn't have to feel like she was strange, not like how he did at her age. He would have killed to feel as content then as she was now. His lips tugged into a reluctant smile. "You must have had some dreams when you were young."

"Yeah," said Rose. She turned to face her teacher. "When I was eleven, I thought my future was unlimited. It was as though the headmaster opened the doors to the rest of my life with one little note. Professor, do you really want to know what I wanted?" He nodded, and Rose took in a good breath.

"I wanted to be something great. I wanted to use my magic to become something that I never would have had a shot at if I were a Muggle."

"You know, magic can be a gift or a curse on any given day," said Snape.

"I know that now, but like I said, I was young and dumb. But oh, I had big dreams. I saw myself rising up to do so much good that people's heads would spin. I saw people looking up to me with real respect. My mother wouldn't struggle to be proud of me. My father wouldn't have to be so ashamed. To tell the truth, I wanted to be loved for everything I was…I was so naïve. It's no wonder why I let most of that go."

"That's the nature of maturation." Snape went to once again sit down on a bench, rolling up his inventory list to stick it in his pocket. "You cannot hold onto every little thing you want, as much as you would like to. You just have to learn how to live with that. I did a long time ago."

"Why do you always have to be right?" asked Rose with a sigh. She tried to busy herself with the potted plants, dropping specimens into the basket at her feet. "Oh well, it's like what my friend Natasha used to say. I can always hang onto the hope that one day, I'll meet a great wizard that could still make that happen, change my life for the better."

'_Oh, a romantic wish of yours?' _Snape thought. He wouldn't dare say that out loud for he wasn't in the mood to deal with the word-vomit that all women were capable of producing. True, she had already spilled her guts to him quite a bit more than preferred. But it wasn't like she annoyed him with her troubles and dreams. They made her seem all the more human.

Rose brought over the basket of Hellebore plants, and Snape politely asked her to separate the flowers. He didn't object when she sat down right where she stood on the floor beside his seat. Cross legged with her sharp knife in hand, Rose carefully stripped the delicate buds off the stalks, resting them in a smaller separate basket. They would be ground up at a later time.

"You don't need to hold onto such a ridiculous thought," said Snape. "Those great wizards you admire did not get there by riding someone else's coattails. They mostly had to work for it themselves. You know that, don't you?"

"I do, yes. It's just that it can be easy to feel second rate around here." Rose shrugged her shoulders, looking down at the flowers in front of her.

"With friends like yours, you do that to yourself." Snape leaned forward and rested a hand on Rose's shoulder. Her bright eyes found their way through curtains of black hair to make contact. "Besides, you shouldn't have to feel like that. Alright, you are not the best at everything you learn here, but hardly anyone is. You have your strengths and weaknesses like everyone else. Don't let them get to you. If anything, remember how you were better at potion-making than many of your classmates when you were only Third years. You know, through the years, I always had a hunch that you would grow up to be a fairly competent witch. But now I believe that you have much more potential than that."

"You really think so?" asked Rose, her voice small.

"Sure," said Snape. "You desire greatness, and with the right attitude, you could have it one day. Your father is in prison, any lasting renown you achieve will already be far better than that."

"Let's just hope that conspiracy is not a family tradition." Both the witch and the wizard laughed, quite genuinely. They were so wrapped up in their own words that neither of them noticed the cheering heard from the Quidditch pitch as Demelza made the winning goal at practice.

Rose smiled in spite of herself. Her mood had turned for the far better in a few short minutes. Snape was almost a different man these days, when it was just them. And even if it was because of the relative privacy, their unspoken pact of silence, she couldn't help but admire the man when his walls came down. She admired him anyway, but it felt wonderful to be treated as she always wanted. She felt more his pupil now than she ever had in eight years.

The warm feeling of a favorite student stayed with her for much of the day.

**~HP~**

_**So here ends the chapters I have had prewritten and edited. My next update won't come for a while, as I have to show it to my beta first and let her read it, but I'm excited for you guys to see it.**_

_**Keep on reading and keep on reviewing. Thanks!**_


	21. Everything has its reason

_**Hey readers, I'm back! It's been a rough few weeks for me here, between my work hours and my continuing dental issues. But in spite of the two root canals I had done in the last few days, I finally got the edits back from my beta, and I am able to post a few new chapters. I hope you guys enjoy what I've got for you.**_

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

White knuckles gripped the rim of the toilet bowl Severus was kneeling in front of. His entire body was in tremors as his stomach forced up what was left of what he had eaten the previous day. But no matter how many times he was sick, the nausea would not let up at all. His insides were twisted to painful levels. His throat was burning from the acid and bile, and there was no chance to try and extinguish it. His eyes also stung from the irrepressible, salty tears that now ran down a deathly white cheek. Unable to control his body, Severus fought to stop his bursts of emotion. A grown man could not allow himself to sob like a child.

But he was never this ill as a child.

Behind him, Poppy had a firm hand on his shoulder. With the other, she swept his sweaty hair back away from his face. She kept speaking to him in a quiet, comforting voice. "Easy does it, dear. I've got you, you're alright." To Severus, it was all nonsense. What the hell did she know? He wasn't alright, not in the slightest! For Prospero's sake, he had been trapped on the bathroom floor all morning. He couldn't even crawl over to the sink to get a sip of water. And even if he had, it would have come right back up in minutes.

The retching finally seemed to cease, though still leaving Severus nauseated. He panted hard, just waiting for it to start again. In fact, he was heaving as though to speed it up, get it over with. Poppy was urging him to stop before he overexerted himself. That is any more than he already had. Carefully, she hooked a hand under his arm to help him to his feet. She took a wet cloth and wiped it over his mouth. Severus grasped his stomach, and Poppy rubbed his back while he leaned over the bowl. When it looked that there was indeed nothing left to throw up, the Mediwitch led Severus out of the washroom and into his bedchamber. Immediately, she told him to get into bed.

"It's a good thing I thought to come down here when you were late to your appointment," said Poppy, draping the sheets over Severus's legs. "Why didn't you tell me that your morning sickness was this severe?"

"It wasn't," Severus moaned into his pillow. "I hardly felt ill at all the last few days. Up until today, I was fine."

"Oh goodness, I should have warned you! Morning sickness can have tendencies to come and go in waves. You can be very ill one day, and perfectly healthy the next."

"I don't care, it's still horrid." The ailing wizard lay on his side, curling in around his troubled stomach. Poppy quickly decided that it was a good idea to transfigure a bucket beside the bed. She noticed the drying trails left by tears and sat down on the bed. "You will be alright, dear. It is only temporary."

"Is it?" Severus bit out, his tone laced with spiteful sarcasm. Drained of energy and will power, Severus gave up any thought of a fight and fixated on trying to ride out the nausea.

Poppy gently eased Severus over until he was on his back. "While I'm here, I suppose I should check you over. I would have done so anyway." Severus just nodded, swallowing that terrible taste.

Poppy spent the next fifteen minutes or so waving her wand over Severus's body, casting charms to check both the child's development, and its father's current condition. The entire time, the elderly witch had that same look of concentration etched into the lines in her face. Severus chose to keep his eyes closed so as to not see this expression, or any changes to it. He didn't want to know what she was doing, or what she was thinking to do.

"Alright then," Poppy said, attracting Severus's attention as she tucked her wand away. "The baby is growing as expected for this stage, and it still appears to be doing well. Right now, you are a little dehydrated, and I'm worried that you still are not getting the proper nutrition. I understand if you are not up to eating something for now, but I'm serious when I say that I want you to start eating better, without someone telling you to do it." Severus managed to give his eyes a little roll. "In the meantime, I want you to drink lots of fluids to replenish the ones you have already lost."

"How can I? It will just come back up."

"Oh Severus, I highly doubt that. I believe the worst of it might be over for now. I think you can manage a glass or two of water." Poppy solidified her order by actually summoning a glass of water to the bedside table. Severus turned his head in complete disgust, already feeling the slow roll deep inside. He was soon back on his side, head hovering over the bucket. And within minutes of that, he felt fire shoot up his throat. Poppy continued to whisper comforting words to him as he vomited. When he was through, the glass of water was next to his face.

"Rinse and spit, dear." Severus listened to the Mediwitch and washed his mouth out, spitting the water out to mix with his own sick. Poppy banished the mess with a quick flick of her wand. "I won't penalize you if you choose to stay in bed today. I wouldn't want to take the chance if I were in your place. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"You could give me a potion so I don't have to stay in bed," Severus croaked. "I ran out two days ago."

Poppy's face wrinkled around her eyes. "Severus," she said, obviously uneasy. "How often do you take your Anti-nausea Potions? Every other day?"

"I take them when I need them. I have to function somehow."

"Yes, but do you take them when you feel a little bit nauseous, or only when it's this bad?"

"Whenever I fucking need them," Severus growled out as he gripped the sheets. "I keep a stock in my office so I don't have to suffer through my classes. You try to work when your stomach is rebelling against you, even a little. Please Poppy, I know you have them. Just let me have one so we can both get on with our day."

"But Severus, I can't do that."

The pale-as-parchment, deathly ill wizard looked at Poppy with a gutted, desperate expression. "Why not, you insufferable woman?! I feel like I'm dying here!"

"I know that, but you sound like you use that potion on a fairly regular basis, even when I told you to use it only when it was _absolutely necessary. _Believe me Severus, I want to help you as much as I possibly can. But my concern is that if you keep that up, your body will build up an immunity. You could have another morning like this, drink the potion, and find that it no longer works. Personally, I am not willing to take a chance on that happening. Your best bet is to ride this one out, give your system a break. I suggest that you start trying other remedies as an alternative. A few crackers before rising could be helpful on more moderate days."

Severus rolled onto his back, clenching his eyes shut as though to say something along the lines of _You-stupid-old-broad_. Settling into the mattress, he tried to calmly breathe away the gut-twisting pain with not much success. Feeling terribly sympathetic, Poppy rested a gentle hand on his abdomen, rubbing in comforting circles. Severus, to her surprise, made no move to stop her. "I know, dear. I know it's dreadful. But really, this is a good thing. This is your body doing as it should. Your hormones are working hard to sustain your pregnancy."

"While making me feel like complete shit," moaned Severus. "Poppy, I am so tired of this."

"It will get better, Severus. The morning sickness will let up eventually. At best, you will only have to deal with this for a few more weeks."

"And what happens after that? You said it yourself that there will be other things to watch out for."

Poppy looked to the ceiling with a sigh. "Oh Severus, don't mind that. You shouldn't focus too much on that anyway. You have a baby to think about."

"Sorry to break your heart, but I don't want to think about that. I don't even feel pregnant in the slightest. It just feels like I've got a bad case of the flu. What the hell am I talking about? I'm not supposed to feel pregnant!" Severus brought his hand up to massage his temple.

"That will change soon enough," said Poppy. "Just you wait until you start showing. I bet it will feel all the more real then."

"Poppy, don't!" Severus barked sharply. He quickly wiped away what remained of those degrading tears and let his arm rest beside him.

Poppy now could not tell if this was illness or emotional distress. As stubborn and maddening as Severus could be at times, she couldn't help but look at him now and see the boy he once was. She was reminded of that night many years ago, the night she had to deliver a Calming Draught to a very frightened lad who had been pulled from the grips of a werewolf. But he was so young then. If anything scared Severus now, he had too much pride inside to let it show. _'Poor thing, he must be terrified.' _

She leaned forward and touched Severus's pale cheek. He opened his disturbingly hollow eyes to look at her. "How about this? If you are not feeling better by tonight, you can have your potion. Would you like that?" Severus merely nodded, providing Poppy with a little comfort. She ended up sitting there with him until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

**~HP~**

Severus would wake repeatedly throughout the morning, mostly to vomit into the charmed bucket beside the bed. Nothing in his being could have persuaded him to challenge Poppy's request that he stay in bed. He wouldn't rather be anywhere else at the moment. He was terribly ill, but at least he was terribly ill in the comfort of his own rooms.

He did not see much of anyone after Poppy left. He had half-expected that he would have to deal with an onslaught of company. Poppy must have passed on the message that he was not feeling well at all, and that it was best that he be left alone. Minerva did pop in for a short visit, but only to check that he was not letting himself get more dehydrated, which he was not. She also managed to scrape together three bottles of Nourishment Draught, a little potion that acted as a meal supplement for the ailing or those battling an eating disorder. She assured Severus that he should drink them only when he felt up to it.

Just one of those bottles lay empty when the clock in the sitting room chimed noon. Six hours in, and Severus felt no better. This could not be normal, he thought to himself. He should have been able to get up two hours ago. But still, what could he do? There was still a long stretch of time before he could have the relief he so desperately wanted. He had long surrendered to lying on his side and waiting for the next wave of nausea to pass. And he was doing exactly that when the handle on the bedroom door creaked open. Dumbledore stepped in, barely making a sound as he walked across the floor.

"What do you want, Headma…Albus?" said Severus in a gutted groan.

"I wanted to see how you were coping. Poppy told me that you were in a pretty bad way this morning." The old wizard stopped to take in the sight of the younger one, still in his nightclothes, lying in bed, curled in a rigid, angled ball. He felt his chest twist with compassion. Poppy wasn't kidding! "I suppose I don't have to ask how you are feeling." Severus sneered, albeit weakly. He rested his head down onto his pillow. Albus looked down and noticed the bucket. "Oh goodness, you're not still getting sick, are you?"

"It comes and goes, but I still feel horrible." As if on perfect cue, Severus was hit by a particularly nasty wave. Instinctively, he pushed himself forward over the edge. "Oh…oh god!" he hissed through his teeth. Albus supported him with a firm hand on his shoulder, and they rode it out together. Severus collapsed back down and sighed, thankful to be spared of any retching in front of the headmaster.

"I'm sure you've heard enough of this," said Albus. "But it'll be alright. You'll be back on your feet before you know it."

"That's what I thought hours ago," growled Severus. "Albus, I can't take it anymore. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired."

"I know, Severus –,"

"No, you don't!" Severus snapped at the wizard trying to comfort him. "You don't know what it's like to wake up every day and feel worse than you ever have in your life. You don't know what it's like to have your emotions hanging by a thread, to be smothered by everyone around you and not being able to stop it. And you certainly don't know what it's like to know it's all because of a little speck feeding off you. Albus, you don't know what it's like to be pregnant, so don't talk to me like you do!"

Albus sighed. "You're right, I don't know. But Severus, I'm just trying to help you. You know that, right?" Severus pretended to ignore the older wizard, staring at the not-too-distant wall. "Anyway, you just have to remember that this is a good sign. As rough as it seems now, this is a normal and relatively treatable part of having a baby. If anything, remember that the child is doing just fine."

"Of course _the child _is doing just fine. Probably doesn't even look human yet, and already it's causing trouble. Albus, why would anyone actually want to put themselves through this? I've been beaten, bruised, scarred, hexed, and cursed a million times over. And yet I look back on that and still think that this has been worse. The Dark Lord's work only lasted a few hours if I was lucky. I'm stuck suffering like this for nearly the whole school year."

"Oh dear boy, it's not suffering. Once you hold that baby in your arms, you'll forget all about this illness and fatigue and –,"

"Albus, you don't understand!" exclaimed Severus, abruptly sitting up in bed. He stared passed Albus's glasses, straight into his bright blue eyes. "I don't want this. I don't want to spend the next year in agony for an unplanned child that I'm not even sure that I want."

"Severus –,"

"It wasn't supposed to be like this! I was never supposed to end up like this; bloody fucking raped and knocked up by it."

"Severus!" Albus raised his voice as he planted his hands on Severus's shoulders. "It was not your fault, no matter what you think. You couldn't have prevented this pregnancy if you knew it was possible in the first place."

"It's more than just that," said Severus, his deep eyes slowly welling up. "I accepted that I was never going to have the family I wanted. The last few years really made that clear. But I never would have sunk to this level, carrying a child myself. It's just not natural! I cannot accept a child that came from something so perverted and miserable. I don't want everything to come to a screeching halt because of this child."

"Tell me the truth," said Albus. "Are you afraid that the child will remind you of how it was conceived?" Severus reluctantly nodded, one tear escaping his now closed eye. Albus felt a knot in both his chest and his throat. Wherever this was going, it could not be good. "Are you saying that you don't want to keep this child after all?"

"I don't know," Severus croaked, his voice constricted by his distress. "I wish to God that I did. I know I told you I wouldn't abort it, but it feels like all the walls are closing in on me. You have no idea what I have to do to stay calm in front of the kids. It's too much, Albus."

"I understand, Severus. Anyone in your position would be overwhelmed. But you're only two months gone. No one is asking you to make a decision right this instant. You have a lot of time to think things over, make the necessary changes. Having a child is a massive undertaking, but it's one a lot of people have done before. You could do it just as well…but if it's your decision to give the child up for adoption, then that's your choice. Let me just say one thing."

"What?" asked Severus.

"I don't believe that your pregnancy was as unplanned as you think. I don't choose to see it as a completely random act of magic that chance and unfortunate circumstances produced."

Severus listened impatiently, and his aching gut had very little to do with that. "Then what is it to you?"

Albus folded his hands and relaxed them into his lap. He looked at Severus with a brightly optimistic glance. "This is your chance at happiness, my boy. Obviously, someone up there is looking out for you, thought you deserved better than a life on your own. This is your chance to have the family you should have had long ago."

"Call me mad, Albus, but I always had the thought that a wife would be involved somewhere along the way," said Severus. "Given my career, my reputation, and now my condition, I doubt _that's_ ever going to happen."

"Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you." Albus spoke softly with a smile. "But even if a romantic life isn't in the cards for you, you will still have a son or daughter who will love you unconditionally. I think you will end up content with your life in the end."

Severus sighed as he hunched over, propping himself up with his elbows on his thighs. His head was starting to ache from the onslaught of thoughts and conflict at war in his mind. He knew that Albus meant well, and he knew that the old man wanted to see him happy one day. But he couldn't make his decisions any easier if he thought it possible. Severus felt utterly trapped, and Albus could not provide him with a way out. "I wish I knew what to tell you, Albus. There are just so many things preventing me from seeing any gain in this mess. I can't help but wonder if giving the child up is the best thing to do."

"It might be, though I doubt that is the case. You've helped to bring up some fine kids, whether you see it or not. Have a little confidence in yourself, son. Fate gave you this child. I like to think that it was for good reason." Albus leaned in closer to Severus's pale face. "Who knows? Maybe Lily put in a good word for you."

"_You are meant to live your life out after these dark days. Severus, you have the chance to get everything you wanted. You can finally get what you truly deserve."_

For a brief moment, Severus's lasting nausea was replaced by an empty sinking feeling. He suddenly remembered the sight of his late love, her soothing words to him. He remembered her promises, promises that felt so empty, but still so stirring. In those first agonizing days after the Dark Lord's defeat, it was a comforting thought to him. But he had ultimately dismissed it as an extreme hallucination brought on by his near-death experience. Up until recently, it was nothing more than a recurring dream. If it really was her, she couldn't have meant anything like this. No, it couldn't be! Lily would never have wanted anyone to suffer like he was now. She wouldn't have wished it on her worst enemy, perhaps not even on the Dark Lord himself.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up on that one," he said, his tone falling into an exhausted drone. Letting his upper body drop back down onto the bed, Severus pressed a hand to his forehead. He felt Albus carefully rubbing his upper arm and shoulder.

"Get some rest, my boy. We shall miss you at supper. I'll see you in the morning." The headmaster rose to his feet and turned for the door. He didn't know whether to be amused or disheartened when he heard Severus's voice coming. "At this rate, I don't know if I can guarantee that."

**~HP~**

Another two hours of steady sleep left Severus feeling surprisingly better. The upset in his stomach was still there, but he thought it felt much better than what he had endured for most of the day. He felt well enough to finally get out of bed and dress himself. But regardless, he thought it was best to continue to play it safe and stay in his quarters. He relaxed on his bed for several moments, taking the opportunity to drink his second Nourishment Draught. He couldn't consider solid food now even if he wanted it. He eventually felt brave enough to move to his sitting room, and he spent his afternoon reading on his sofa. Suppertime came and went, and another bottle lay empty on the end table.

Severus soon looked up at the clock and noticed the later hour. It suddenly occurred to him that he had some work left over from the day before, work that had to be done before the next day's classes. He knew that he should still be taking it easy as he still only felt around fifty percent. But he couldn't leave it until the morning. Why try and compensate then when he could do it now while he could function? Against his better judgment, Severus left the safety of his quarters for his classroom.

He quickly came to regret his decision. The longer he was on his feet, crossing the room several times and setting up for the next day's lessons, the worse his stomach felt. He hoped it was just lasting aches and sat down at his desk. Even then, the sickening churning got progressively worse. Severus thought with horror of the possibility that his system was kicking back the potions he drank. It could happen, it just had to happen to him, happen now. He leaned on the aging wood, grasping at his abdomen. Sweat was forming on his temples as his mouth filled with saliva.

"Eh-hem…"

Startled, Severus looked up to the door where the voice came from. Leaning against the doorframe, Rose stood there in a jumper and light jeans. Her red hair was hanging in a neat braid which rested against her collarbone. Her wand was tucked into her belt. The look on her face was cautious; she appeared to be a bit nervous when her professor caught sight of her.

"Beckett…what are you doing here?"

"I still have detention tonight, don't I?" said Rose, sounding as nervous as she looked. Snape's stomach turned, this time out of the stun of that. He completely forgot about her! How could he let himself do something like that? Forgetting to grade a stack of quizzes was one thing; that was excusable. But it was something else entirely to let something like a detention session slip your mind, especially one as routine and drawn out as Rose Beckett's.

"Oh…um…yes, yes you do." Snape said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Rose stepped forward and said, "That's what I thought. Since no one's seen you today, everyone was telling me to skip out on you. I thought it was a good idea to at least come down and check."

"Sensible," said Snape. He really wasn't in the mood for chit-chat right now, even with her. He repeated to himself over and over again to not let his queasiness trigger his temper. He took deep breaths in an attempt to compose himself. "Have a seat. I'll think of something for you."

Rose pulled up a stool at a front desk and sat down. She waited in silence for Snape to give her a command. But quite a few minutes passed by without even a suggestion. Having gotten so used to manual labor that ranged from the mundane, to the tiring, to the disgusting, it was strange to be just sitting there. Snape, it seemed, was bent on doing everything himself for once. Rose followed him with her eyes. She watched him sorting papers, arranging jars and bottles, summoning brewing tools, a typical Sunday evening for a professor she guessed. But the more Rose stared at Snape, the more she thought she should be doing this all for him. There was no color in his face, pale as liquid parchment. She noticed the glaze of perspiration across his sickly skin. And periodically, he would stop in his tracks and lean against the nearest surface, alternating between hard pants and shallow breaths.

"Professor Snape, are you okay?"

"What?" The Potions master jerked his head in her direction, like he had forgotten she was there again. Rose stood and carefully walked toward him, feeling a building tension in her chest. "Sir, you look horrible. Are you feeling alright?"

Snape thought to lie to her to calm her nerves, but a charade like that would be pointless. He knew he looked like death, and felt every bit of it. But he still didn't want to have Rose worrying about him when she really didn't have to. "I'm fi…" He was stopped when the room seemed to start spinning. He gripped the counter, feeling the cold sweat coming on. "No…I'm not."

"You're not?" asked Rose, coming closer. "Talk to me, sir. What's going on?"

"I have been ill the whole day. I thought I was alright. Don't mind me, I can manage." He looked up at Rose and suddenly saw her form double before him. The student came back into view as a new wave swept over him. "Merlin…I'm going to be sick!" He made a move for the sink.

In a move right out of a DADA practical, Rose grabbed her wand, whipped it at a stool which skidded over to Snape, turned on the sink faucet with another flick, tucked it into her belt again, and then turned her face away. She shielded her eyes with her hand. Her insides twisted with compassion as she listened to Snape's attempts to retch, but she was held back by her boundaries. She wanted to be of more help to the professor she admired so greatly, it just wasn't her place.

The dry heaving slowly and erratically came to a stop. Rose lowered her hand and turned back. Snape eased down onto the stool, still gripping the sink brim. The young witch came up on his left side. "You okay now?" she asked.

"Yes," Snape sighed. He wiped the beads of sweat from his face. "Oh, who am I kidding? I'm in no state to do this."

"I should say not. You should be in bed."

"Honestly, Miss Beckett, I was in bed enough today." The Potions master was clutching his abdomen again, swallowing a gag or two. He shook his head at Rose with a defeated frown. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this tonight. I'll let you have the night off. I suppose you've earned it."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Rose, her worry wringing her fingers.

"Yes, I'm sure. Just get out of here, please."

"Don't you want me to finish setting up for tomorrow's lessons?"

Snape tried not to growl. That was a close enough call; he did not want to be sick in front of a student, much less Rose. He cursed the very persistence that he had been so keen on. "No, I will worry about that tomorrow. Now go! Scram!"

"No!" Rose barked at Snape. He jerked back, startled. But her demeanor did not give off the slightest trace of anger. In fact, the look on her face bore a striking resemblance to Poppy's that morning. She finally rested her gentle hand on his arm. "I know you won't admit it, but you look like you need some help. There must be something I can do for you."

"There is nothing you can do," said Snape. "It's beyond your control."

"C'mon Professor, work with me. Do you have anything you can take?" Rose received a slow head shake. "Well, would you like me to make something for you, an Anti-nausea Potion?"

He wasn't entirely sure if he could wait for a potion. He probably would feel better if he could just throw up. But he remembered what Poppy said. He could have it now if he only had the strength to brew it. And he considered Rose to be totally trustworthy in her brewing. She could brew this potion with her hands tied behind her back. "If it's not too much trouble…"

"It's not," said Rose.

Lightly nudging her to the side, Snape stood and walked over to his desk. He opened one drawer to rummage through his collection of odd papers. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Rose going for a discarded copy of her textbook. Of course she knew it was in there, he thought. "Not that one, Miss Beckett." Snape was met by a puzzled glance from Rose, already well into the pages. He found the delicately written instructions for Poppy and Pomona's safer recipe and held it out to her. "Use this one, it's not much different. You'll find everything you need in my stores."

"Thank you, sir," said Rose. "You know, you don't have to watch me. I'm not going to poison you. Go sit in your office, stay close to the loo. I'll have it for you as soon as possible."

She dashed into Snape's now open office. Already, he could hear the stockroom door opening with a squeak. Heavy tapping, that's when he realized she was up the step ladder. Snape half-expected to see her come out weighed down by ingredients, possibly dropping a jar or two. But it turned out that she made two trips, pushing past him at the door on her second exit.

Though he knew he didn't have to, Snape did indeed watch Rose for a moment from his office door. She was blissfully unaware of this intrusion as she carefully read the directions, prepared the various herbs and other ingredients, and deposited them into an abandoned cauldron. She didn't even appear curious as to why it was not the standard book version she was working on. She simply went about her work. She was doing her part to help him. As appreciative as Severus was, he was also confused.

This would not have happened three or four weeks ago. Rose would not have given up her freedom to brew a potion so he could feel better. The last time he allowed her to go very early, she ran out of there so fast that her cleaning tools could have hung in the air. And as well as they got on now, Severus saw no reason for it to be different. Silently, he ran through every possibility. He knew she regarded him with high respect, she said so herself on numerous occasions. But then again, so did many of the Slytherins. Where were they now? There had to be more to it than that. Maybe she thought she owed him something for some reason. Maybe it was for playing therapist a few times, maybe it was something else.

Severus pored over his memories of her in past years, searching for something that would stick out in both their minds. There wasn't much to choose from, Rose had always been so anonymous to him when she was younger. It wasn't the flaming hair mishap; she was more humiliated than relieved after he put her out. But he had to have done something else for her besides give her those well-deserved good grades.

Suddenly, his rapid thoughts came to a halt. There was that one night three years before…

_**~Flashback~**_

_Dolores Umbridge really was a psychotic bitch. Severus knew this before anyone else had the misfortune to find out. And right from the word go, Severus had a gut feeling that the short, stocky woman was worthy of his deepest loathing. It didn't have much to do with the fact that she had stolen the DADA position from him; if he believed anything that the Slytherins were giggling about, he was already far superior than she could ever hope to be. His teaching could make the little cat-loving cur's head spin. He had nothing to worry about with that. In truth, Snape hated Umbridge just for being so barking mad. In his eyes, she was encroaching on his territory. It had taken Severus fourteen years to build up his reputation as the school's most hated professor. Umbridge had only been in the school for fourteen minutes and had been able to achieve the same with him. And within fourteen days of that, the entire Hogwarts population caught up. The fact that he was seen as relatively tolerable now was enough to make Severus teeth-gnashing angry. Really, who did she think she was? And the interrogating! Ah, the interrogating! And why the woman saw the need to wear more pink than most had seen in their lives was just beyond Severus's comprehension. _

_All Severus could really do was to do whatever he could to stay in Umbridge's favor. The last thing he needed was to be sacked, Dark Lord or no Dark Lord. He also had to do his best to maintain his cruel disciplines. After all, he had reduced some of these children to tears. She hadn't been able to do that yet, had she? Making teenagers angry was one thing, but humiliating them in that way was a completely different thing. He couldn't soften up. He couldn't let himself feel sorry for a student, no matter what. Therefore, he could not allow his menacing ways to falter._

_It was just that that led him to a startling discovery._

_It was ten o'clock at night in early October. Severus stalked through the dark corridors of the dungeons, on the prowl for students out of bed. For once, the castle was strangely quiet. So quiet, it was actually a bit eerie. But at least there was no trouble in his sights. It seemed that even Potter had better, more sensible things to do. Severus found himself deciding that it was a better idea to just give up the search for nothing and take an early night. Images of a bottle of scotch and a good book in front of the fire flashing through his mind, he turned in the direction of his quarters._

_Just then, Severus heard a noise. His eyebrow arching, he turned around to listen. It was as soft as it was sudden, but it was there all the same. It was the sound of sniffling followed by a quiet sobbing. Someone was crying. Severus could easily tell that it was a female voice. It didn't sound too young and childish, but it didn't quite have the mature sobbing of a grown woman. Severus concluded that it had to be a fourth or fifth year student. And judging from the echo, she was somewhere down in the dungeons. Seeing that it could be one of his Slytherins, Severus decided to investigate. He turned his lit wand back down the black void._

_Severus began to retrace his steps through every dark, dank hall below the castle, following the sniveling voice. With every step, he could hear himself getting closer. And in time, Severus finally came to discover that the voice was just around the corner from where he now stood. Very slowly he came around, pointing his wand ahead of him. At first, he saw nothing. But then he looked down._

_Rose Beckett, then a Fifth year, was sitting on the floor. Even in the darkness, her eyes were quite visibly red and tears still ran down her pale face. She was clutching her left hand in her right, her knuckles white. She looked up at the offending light and coward when she saw just who the wielder of the wand was. "Professor Snape!" she squeaked, rather uncharacteristically for her._

"_Miss Beckett, what are you doing down here at this hour?" Severus was actually rather curious about the appearance of this particularly random Gryffindor._

"_I…I…um…uh…I…" she stammered, obviously shaken._

"_Out with it, Beckett."_

"_I was on my way back up to my common room, but the staircase changed on me. From where I ended up, the only way back was to go around." Severus shook his head to himself. That was a pathetic excuse if he ever heard one. Rose continued. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll just go" She tried to stand. But when she eased up on the pressure she kept on her hand, she fell back down hissing in pain. It was then that Snape saw the blood running down her hand._

"_What happened to your hand?"_

"_Nothing sir," Rose was quick to answer the question._

"_You are bleeding, that is nothing?"_

"_I cut my hand on some broken glass. It was an accident, I can handle it. I'm sorry, I'm leaving. Please don't give me detention." Rose tried to stand again. _

_Snape stepped forward, shoving his wand in her face. "Stay there," he said. As Rose eased back down onto the ground, Severus got down on his knees and set his wand down on the floor beside him. Not exactly caring for the girl's personal space, Severus gently pried her right hand away from her wounded left. He was dumbfounded by what he saw. It was not the jagged gash of an accidental injury. It was small words etched deep into pale flesh, as though hand written, that read _'I must not start fights.'_ The words were still oozing blood. If Snape didn't know any better, he would say that Rose had done this to herself. There was just one thing; he had heard that cutters usually didn't cry._

"_This was an accident?" Snape dared her to answer, though Rose seemed to be paralyzed by his touch. She probably wanted to run all the way back to London now. She slowly nodded, but Snape was not convinced. "Then why have you not gone up to the Infirmary?"_

"_I told you, Professor, I can handle it myself."_

_Snape let go and stood, picking up his wand. He knew that Rose didn't have much intention of going into Healing, and he certainly knew that this was beyond the first aid skills of the average fifteen year-old. Not even Snape himself knew what possessed him to do what he was about to. "Keep pressure on it," he said in a low voice. "Come with me." He looked down on the puzzled girl before he turned to walk away. He picked up speed only when he heard a second set of footsteps behind him. Not once did Severus turn to look back at the scared, injured student. He reached the door to his office and stopped to let Rose catch up. Then he led her inside._

_Rose was cautious as the door was shut behind her. Snape motioned for her to sit down in the chair before his desk. Once she had done what he had asked of her, Snape walked over to a set of drawers on one wall of the room. The Potions master could feel his student's light eyes watching him as he easily found what he was looking for. He returned to his desk with two small potion bottles, a small towel, gauze, and a roll of bandages. He glared at Rose as he sat down and laid the towel out on the desktop._

"_Give me your hand," he demanded, but Rose just held her hand tighter as she shook her head, wide-eyed. Snape rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to harm you, Miss Beckett. Now give me your hand." He noticed Rose swallow hard as she held out her shaking, bloody hand. He took it in his own as he uncorked the bottle of Sterilizing Solution._

"_I trust you know that this will hurt," he said as Rose nodded. He then tipped the bottle over to let the cold liquid pour over the carved out sentence. Rose cried out through clenched teeth and clamped eyes as the burn of the potion shot through her entire hand, sending fresh tears down her face. The white towel on the table was stained pink and pale red. Severus watched as she gripped the arm of her chair with her free bloodstained hand. Once he had cleaned out the wound and dabbed away what remained of the acidic brew, Severus opened up the second bottle, a small supply of Essence of Dittany. He had to get those words to start closing up. He soaked a bit of gauze in the dark, cloudy mixture before beginning to slowly rub it over Rose's hand._

"_Professor," said Rose, wiping her eyes dry with the sleeve of her robe. "Why are you doing this?"_

"_It's rather simple, Miss Beckett," Severus said with a calm tone. "I couldn't possibly believe that you were capable of handling this yourself."_

"_You underestimate my abilities, Professor."_

_Severus glared at her. "Is that so? You, like too many Gryffindors before you, are too proud for your own good. Hmm…could be why you refused to see Madam Pomfrey."_

"_I would have gone to her if it got infected."_

"_Why wait until then? Unless it has something to do with how you managed to obtain this peculiar injury." Rose opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. It seemed to Severus that her answer wasn't good enough and she knew it. He sneered as he turned his attention back to her hand. "You cannot possibly think that I'm going to ignore that. I have seen many things in my day, but a statement carved into someone's hand was never one of them. Curious…very curious indeed."_

_Rose's expression got surprisingly defensive amidst her fretfulness. "Are you saying that you think I did this to myself?" she said in a low, tense voice. "And on purpose?"_

"_It would make more sense than it being an accident," said Snape. "Miss Beckett, these wounds are very deep. If you did not cut out the words, then who did?"_

"_Um…no one," The reply was quick, like Rose hadn't put much thought into it. Snape raised his black brow. "Oh, so then you did do this –,"_

"_No!" Rose shouted. "It wasn't me. I swear on my life, sir." She tried to pull her hand back, but Snape held on tightly without very much effort. He continued rubbing the gauze over the slowly healing sentence, now with a bit more force. _

"_Then tell me who is responsible for this," he said, letting aggravation seep into his tone. "If another inflicted such harm on you, then it would seem appropriate that they face the consequences."_

_Rose shrank back as far as she could, trying to sink back into her chair. Snape looked into her eyes and there was the fear again. No questions asked, someone or something was making her withhold the truth. But if it wasn't him, then who? "Miss Beckett, get over yourself and tell me. Who are you trying to protect?"_

"_It isn't that, Professor," said Rose. "I…I just can't tell you…it's a delicate situation."_

_Snape cocked his eyebrow at her, reaching for the roll of white dressings. "A delicate situation? Is that all you can come up with?"_

"_I thought you would say that. Well believe me or not, it's true. I'm sorry Professor, but I can take care of this myself. You don't have to go and get involved, because that would make things worse."_

_By this point, Severus was wondering if one of his Slytherins had something to do with this. He did find her in their territory after all, and her wounds were still fresh. While he encouraged the rivalry between houses, he would not allow them to sink to the level of permanently scarring others. And if they had, had they done it to others as well? He remembered something all of a sudden. Potter had been walking around with a bandaged left hand recently. And so had that Sixth year boy from Hufflepuff, and that couple of Fourth year Ravenclaws. Snape tried to find some connection between the five of them. Not all of them had known troubles with other students, yet they all ended up with bloodied dressings. Potter had also stayed out of his hair lately. He was more Umbridge's problem lately, serving pointless detentions for so-called lies…wait. Potter's bandages appeared not long after. The same thing happened with those other three students. Severus felt stunned when he remembered Umbridge mentioning something about Rose's "barbaric behavior" towards Pansy Parkinson earlier that afternoon._

_No…_

_Snape carefully tore off a length of the bandages and started wrapping it around Rose's injured hand. He decided not to pressure her for answers. If he was right, then it really was a delicate situation. "If you are going to be stubborn and hold your tongue, then I suppose that is your choice. But when Professor McGonagall corners you tomorrow, don't tell her that I did nothing." He tied it off and let Rose pull her hand back against her chest. "Make sure that you change those dressings every few hours. Keep applying Dittany if you don't want any obvious scarring."_

_Rose was quiet as she waited for Snape to write out a note for her, to prevent further trouble for being out past curfew. She was just as quiet as she took it and made a move for the door. But before she left, she glanced back at the Potions master at his desk. Thanks were just on the tip of her tongue, but for whatever reason, she could not do it. She left him alone without a word._

_**~End Flashback~**_

It was doubtful that Rose would have forgotten something like that. It was a simple act of pity that she thought could never happen at the time. She most likely wasn't too pleased with herself after he told Minerva their little story, thus opening the floodgates to Ministry domination at Hogwarts. But it was evident in her mannerisms in the following months that she did appreciate what he did. She could not thank him with words, so there had to be another way to express that gratitude. Perhaps she had been trying to find some way to repay him for years.

Severus had taken to sitting at his office wingchair, listening to Rose work from the other room. He tried to distract himself by reading with some moderate success. Shifty black eyes kept glancing at the clock, ticking obnoxiously with every second. An hour and a half after she arrived, Rose came into his office. She blew on the steaming goblet she carried delicately in her hands.

"Here you are, sir," she said. "It's a little hot, but I didn't want to make you wait."

Snape accepted the goblet with his thanks. At first, he found himself questioning how she managed the changes to the brewing. A quick look at the liquid and a whiff of the fumes suggested that she had done nothing wrong. Relieved, Snape tipped back a good amount of the potion in one sip. He noticed that Rose was still standing in the middle of the room.

"There was quite a lot left over, so I put aside some extra doses for you to keep should you need them. Everything is already cleaned up, don't worry about anything."

"You really didn't have to do that," said Snape.

"It's okay, I wanted to." Rose stepped over to the second chair and sat down on the very edge of the cushion. She bent over to lean her elbows on her knees. "It was the least I could do."

"But why? What did I do for you to deserve this favor?"

"Who said anything about that? Do all Slytherins think you have to do something to get something in return? Professor, you've done a lot for all of us. But I did this because I wanted to do something nice. I've caused you enough stress this term. Besides, I doubt you could have brewed that on your own in your condition."

The dreaded _c-word_ failed to catch Snape's attention. He hardly knew what to say to Rose, especially when he saw such raw honesty in her face. She wasn't playing with him, she meant it. And she obviously cared for his wellbeing if she was still there to be sure he drank the whole dose. "Yes…um…thank you, Miss Beckett. That was all very considerate." Uncomfortable, he let his gaze wander from her face down to her left hand. "So those scars that Umbridge left you with have healed up nicely."

"Oh yeah," said Rose, glancing down at her hand where the words were now barely visible. "I kept using Dittany, just like you said. It sure worked; my mum didn't notice them until I pointed them out to her." She glanced around the room, toward the desk. "You know I don't think I've ever said this, but I appreciate what you did that night. It was very kind of you."

Snape's lips tugged into a small smile. It felt surprisingly wonderful to finally get that thank-you after three years. "You didn't think you could ever say that, did you?"

"Not out loud, but times change, I guess. I'm sorry I never told you that to your face. Awfully rude of me…now that you mention it, maybe I did owe you a favor after all." Rose giggled to herself, with Snape quietly laughing in the background. She looked back to him with a warm smile.

"You really are a good kid," Snape said after downing the last drops of potion. "Forgive me for telling you something I'm sure you have heard a thousand times."

"Don't be silly," said Rose. Her bright eyes fell to the floor before she brought them up rather sheepishly. "Do you really mean that?"

The Potions master felt an odd shiver at her inquiry. Warmth spread through his body as the potion took its effect. "I do. I do not know many young people who would put themselves in your current place, and by their own choice. If I'm honest, I do not know many people who would show me that level of compassion."

"Aw, Professor," Rose blushed hard and stood to look down at him. "Don't degrade yourself like that, it surely isn't true. And you should know that I save my compassion only for those who deserve it."

The peculiar feeling in Snape's chest moved down into his stomach. But for once, he had no fear of being sick. Severus had enough kindness in his life to keep him just about content, especially these days. But why did it have to feel so strange here? He knew Rose by now, such kindness should not come as a surprise. Yet here he was, still taken by her little gestures. He could feel the color creeping into the paled skin of his cheeks. Rose didn't seem to mind as she bent over to get closer.

"I'm going to go scrub my cauldron, then I'm going to go." she said. "I really hope you feel better, sir. If there's anything else you need –,"

"That's alright, Miss Beckett. You have already done more than I could ask for. Don't act as though you owe me a life-debt."

"Don't blame me, I can't help myself." Rose giggled again, coaxing a smirk out of her tired professor. Casually, she made her way over to the door. "See you in class tomorrow." And like that, with a smile and a flash of red hair, she was gone. Touched, Severus listened and waited for Rose to finish cleaning up after herself, and he did not rise from his chair until she had left for the night. Passing through his classroom before heading back to his quarters, Severus noticed how Rose left his ingredients neatly lined up on his desk. She knew better than to try and put things away without his precise instructions. Severus saw this and realized that if she had gotten the green light from him, she probably would have offered her total servitude that night.

There were people who would do anything they could to help him. But Severus went to bed that night feeling more cared for than he had in weeks.

**~HP~**

_**Keep up the good reading and reviews are welcome! Thank you!**_


	22. In her eyes

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

The next few days turned out to be quite rough. Severus's morning sickness did not improve at all from that Sunday. If anything, it only got more unpredictable. Saltines before rising did seem to help for a while, but then the smell of food in the Great hall would send Severus dashing for the staffroom. Whether it went away on its own or he resorted to the liquid remedy, the nausea always came back eventually. And each attack was just as horrendous as the last. Severus had not felt so weak in a long time, his strength draining with each passing hour. One Sixth year class had to be cancelled, which was good for them considering it was first thing in the morning. Another class, the double class of Gryffindor/Slytherin Fourth years, was cut short mid-lesson when he started to feel lightheaded.

Severus's mental state was fairing no better than his physical health. He was frustrated with his body, he was frustrated with the people around him, and he was frustrated with himself. Albus obviously meant well; he made no secret that he wanted to see Severus raise the child. But even he had to see that the odds were against them. Severus had come from such a sad childhood. There was no one to teach him how to be a good father when he was a boy. There was no one there to make him feel safe and secure. He used to be a boy who almost never felt loved in his own home. It was doubtful that instincts would just take over when it came to his unborn baby. He could not possibly be able to provide anything better for him or her. How could he be a good father when he grew up resenting other people?

He used the time left over from the dismissed Fourth year class to let go of a few of the tears he fought so hard to keep back.

**~HP~**

Rose was worried. Each day, she watched the Potions master from afar. Though he tried his best to give the impression that he was okay, she could still see that something was wrong. He looked so peaky whenever she crossed paths with him. She could see how exhausted he was every time she got the chance to look into those black eyes. Those cancelled classes she heard about did little to ease her concerns. It was a good thing that she had made enough Anti-nausea Potion to last a few days. He seemed so distant, more than she had ever seen in all the years she knew Snape. She knew he had to have a lot on his mind, but something was stirring the cauldron in his head. She knew how hard that was, and that was troubling to her. What was worse than a mad Dark wizard looming over your head?

"He looks worse now than he did a month ago," she said to Hermione as they pored over the books in front of them. The two of them were tucked away in a more private corner of the library, chest deep in assignments for both Charms and Herbology. They kept their voices down to avoid unwanted attention. "Did you see him at breakfast? He looked like he was going to be sick right there. I didn't see him eat one bite."

"I know, I didn't either," said Hermione, reaching for her quill. "I was talking with Luna after Charms class. She said he's been out of sorts since he cancelled that one class of theirs. He hardly gets out of his chair, and he doesn't snap at people as much. It's not that he has no reason, he just seems like he has no energy. How is he at night?"

"Not much better. He can hold a conversation, but that's about it. I end up doing most of the work, not that I mind."

"Do you think he's gone to see a healer yet?"

Rose sighed. "I don't think so, and that's what worries me."

"But what if it's something serious?" Hermione asked with a certain hitch in her tone.

"Don't say that, Mione," said Rose, suddenly quite stern. "If it were that bad, I don't think Dumbledore would let him ignore it for this long."

"Yeah, you're right." Hermione looked up from her Herbology book. Rose had pushed her book away and was leaning her elbow on the table. She stared down at the wooden surface, resting her chin in her hand. "What's the matter, Rose?"

"I wish there was something I could do," said Rose.

"What do you mean? You have done something." Hermione knew that Rose had taken it upon herself to help Snape out while she was in detention. She would do what he requested of her, but also took care of some of his little to-dos before she left. Sometimes, she refused to go when Snape told her to, and therefore she would come in long after Hermione had laid down to sleep. "I'm sure you've been a big help to Snape the last few days."

"I know, Mione, but I wish I could do more."

"Don't get your knickers in a knot." Harry walked up behind the girls and dropped his books at the end of the table. Rose cocked her head at him as he sat down. "How long have you been listening?" she asked.

"Only from _I-wish-there-was-something-I-could-do,_" Harry opened up his Transfigurations book, intending to read up before class started. "You're going on about Snape again?"

"We're not going on, just discussing," said Hermione. She glanced around the area, wrinkling her brow. "Where's Ron?"

"Demelza and Dean grabbed him to go over a strategy for Quidditch. He told me to tell you that he loves you." Hermione blushed, despite it being just them. Rose was rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Harry glanced back at her. "Anyway, what I meant to say, Rose, is that you shouldn't get so worked up about Snape."

"I didn't think I was worked up," said the ginger witch.

"Please, you could hardly focus on your eggs at breakfast."

Again, Rose rolled her eyes. "Even you have to say that he looked terrible."

"I'm not saying that he didn't," said Harry. "Yes, he did look ill this morning. But that's beyond our control. If he's in a bad way, then he's in a bad way. You can't take that away. Besides, Hermione told me about Sunday night. You made a potion for him. You did what you could."

"I still feel like I could do better."

"Believe me, Rose, I do too," said Hermione. "After what he's been through, I don't want Snape to be ill any more than you do. But Harry's right, it's out of our hands. It's not our place anyway. Let's just assume that Dumbledore and McGonagall have gotten to him by now."

'_The way he's been talking, I think they might have," _Rose thought to herself in an attempt to push down her worries. _'I hope they have…'_

"Why are you so concerned about Snape anyway?" she heard Harry ask. A glance in his direction revealed a look of genuine curiosity from the Head Boy, though it could also be construed as concern for Rose's good sense. "You're acting like teachers are not supposed to get sick from time to time."

"From time to time shouldn't be a matter of weeks," Rose pointed out, prompting a nod from Hermione. "And believe it or not, Snape's actually grown on me."

Harry caught a chuckle in his throat. "You're right, I don't believe that."

"I'm telling you, he's much more laid back at night."

"Not in my experience."

"Then maybe it's just you." There was a muffled snort as Hermione hid her laughter behind her hand. Harry let his green eyes trail away, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shook his head, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. Rose continued. "Look, I know he has issues. But Harry, you know he's not mad. He's actually been a lot of help to me the last few weeks. I always liked potion-making, but it feels pretty good to actually have some of your teacher's support for a change. I'm not afraid to admit it; I look forward to his class."

"Let me get this straight," said Harry. "You're trying to tell me that Snape is like one of your favorite professors?"

Slipping into her paranoid disposition, Rose glanced over her shoulder. She blushed a bright pink as she came back around. "He and Professor Wicker, yeah."

Harry quietly laughed, pushing his still-open book away. He leaned his elbow on the old wood. Down the table, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on Harry, there is nothing wrong with that," she said.

"I know, Hermione. I just want to know what Snape has to say to turn a "spoiled brat" into a good old teacher's pet."

"None of your business," said Rose. "What Snape and I talk about is between us, and for my sake and yours, I want to keep it that way."

"Sounds like you're keeping a secret," Harry cocked his brow in a very cheeky manner. Hermione thought this gesture to be quite funny, but Rose shook her head with a slight frown. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "I don't want to say something that'll get you in trouble later. Just forget about it." While her friends continued to laugh, Rose felt a knot twist up in her stomach.

**~HP~**

Severus propped himself against his desk with stiff arms, feeling tired and weak as he attempted to get on with his planned lesson for the Seventh years. He was already running on his second dose of his Beckett-brewed potion of the day, and he might have been alright if not for one thing. The lesson was on Memory potions, and that lesson would end with a practical on the students' part. The trouble with these particular brews was that they required an initial stewing period of at least thirty minutes. Twenty cauldrons stood over open flames. Severus could feel the classroom getting hotter with each minute that ticked by. The thickening air closed in around him, the humidity more pronounced to his vulnerable system. This along with his mostly empty stomach was making him feel like his potion was not working after all. Not wanting to surrender and call off yet another class, Severus did what he could to ignore his internal protests.

He took to walking around the room, thinking that it would do away with the dull abdominal ache that still remained. He spoke with quiet, sometimes stammered words, trying to keep good breath control all the while. To his annoyance, Severus felt the hesitant stares of just about every young adult in the room. Some were constant, others were faltered, but they stared all the same. Severus supposed that they had enough reason this time. He could only guess how bad he looked by now.

He noticed Rose's blue gaze every time he walked by her seat. Watching him again, was she? This was the third time today he caught her looking at him like that. Of course, Snape didn't mind that, not after the aid she had graciously offered each night. After singlehandedly whittling down his to-do list for the week, Rose could turn Parkinson into a buzzing mosquito without a peep from the professor. Actually, the fact that she was in class brought a sense of calm to him. With the overwhelming conditions of the room, he really needed that.

"Why is Moonstone necessary in producing a proper Memory Draught?" he addressed the class. Hands went up around him as he looked around. "Mister Malfoy?"

"Because it's a known mood stabilizer," the blonde Slytherin droned with not much enthusiasm.

"Can anyone elaborate as to why that's important – Miss Beckett?"

"Because it makes sense, sir. You can't remember anything if you are out of your mind with emotion." Rose spoke with confidence, always looking at Snape. "If you negate the emotion, it makes the core of the potion more effective." She offered the Potions master a small, gentle smile. Snape glanced at her and felt that odd sensation in his gut again. He dabbed away the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Not quite how I would have worded it, but yes, that is the idea."

He bluntly recited the lesson, not going into any grave detail that might have been useful, not giving a rat's ass if anyone was falling behind. He wanted to get this lesson over with as soon as he could. Once the students were left to brew, he could escape the heat for a few minutes at the least. If it hadn't been for Longbottom and Finnigan, he could have spent the remainder of the class in his office. But the risk was just too great to take.

Snape was soon back behind his desk, gripping the edge, refusing to sit. Curse those damn burners, he thought. The longer he unconsciously spewed out information, the more unbearable it was getting. But he continued to make broken eye contact with his tense little audience. The sweaty, dizzy professor knew he was in bad shape, but he would be damned if he let it show to them. He used what strength he had to carry on.

"Now, open your books back to page five hundred and thirty two," he said, his breath becoming quiet pants. "Continue from where you left off at the start of the lesson. Note that…" Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of heat flooded in around him. The sweat started to actually drip down the sides of Snape's face as he tried to maintain his footing. Now it felt like the room was spinning. "Note that you will – _pant_ – you will be graded based on what point in the brewing you reach – _pant_ – by the end of class."

Draco stood up out of his seat, his grey eyes wide with obvious alarm. "Professor Snape, are you okay?"

Snape could barely get out one word. He couldn't even look at the young Malfoy, his vision was all out of sorts. He wanted to be sick for the relief of it. But before he could worry about that familiar twist inside, he felt everything drain from his upper body. What remained of his strength was gone from his limbs. Blood rushed to his ears, muffling the gasps and yelps from his shocked class. He could barely hear their shouts as he completely blacked out.

The students watched as Snape collapsed to the floor, hitting the stone hard and heavy.

Girls shrieked while several boys shot up out of their seats with obscene words. Like a bolt of lightning, a visibly distressed Malfoy dashed from his seat to his professor's side. He was almost tripped up because Parkinson was so close behind him. The Slytherin dropped down to his knees, calling Snape's name and searching for a pulse. Pansy meanwhile just stood there in a fit of high-pitched panic, making no move to follow her boyfriend's example.

Stricken with fear, Rose leapt up and rushed to the front. She knelt down by Snape's head, eyes wide and breath shallow. "Is he breathing? Did he hit his head?"

"I don't think so," Malfoy chewed out, as though he would rather not talk to the Gryffindor. Evidently, his distress over his beloved professor overruled that. "He's still breathing, he's got a pulse."

"Professor, can you hear me?" Rose gently slapped Snape's clammy cheek in an attempt to revive him. She sounded almost desperate to those around her.

"Save your breath and stop brownnosing, Beckett," Pansy snarled, clenching her hands into white balls.

"Well, I don't exactly see you falling over yourself to help," Rose growled back, fanning down Snape's face. "He's your Head of House, for Prospero's sake!"

"Pansy, stop it! Don't start this now!" snapped Malfoy, pulling off his outer robe and folding it up. Harry came up behind Rose as she helped ease this makeshift pillow under Snape's head. He tilted his head to get a better look of the situation, and his green eyes doubled in size. "Holy hell, he's out cold!"

"Don't just stand there, Harry," said Rose, returning to her fanning. Her heart was racing, beating against her breastbone. "Get a cool cloth or something."

"You think the heat got to him?"

"I don't know, but it's a thought."

Harry crossed the room, grabbed a clean cloth from a cabinet, and jogged over to the sink. By this time, Ron had stood up to join them, Hermione hovering at his side. "I knew this would happen," the Head Girl said. "I knew it was too hot in here."

"Oh, and you know everything," Pug-faced Parkinson sneered. Rose glared at her from the floor. "Shut up."

"If he's burning up, then why don't we just cast a Cooling Charm?" Ron pulled out his wand as though to do exactly that.

"No, you idiot!" Malfoy barked. "You want to kill us all?!"

Ron took immediate offense to that. He turned to Malfoy with squinted eyes, stepping closer to the group. "Hey, I know what the hell I'm doing, you ruddy gi–,"

"Ron, he means it," said Hermione, slipping into her scolding voice. She motioned toward the hot cauldrons. "Memory Draughts are very sensitive to magical discharge while brewing. You cast that charm, and the whole room could blow."

"The whole room _would _blow. That's why he had to leave it this blistering," Rose added, more focused on the still unconscious Potions master. She took the wet cloth from Harry and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Malfoy busied himself with undoing the buttons around Snape's throat. Rose frantically glanced around, up to the tiny, bar-covered panes of glass. "If only those damn windows could open. Someone could smash one of them. How about you, Parkinson?"

"Sod off, Beckett."

Rolling her eyes, Rose looked back down at Snape. She continued to wipe his brow, stopping to fan him down. After what felt like an eternity to the nervous young people, but was really a short moment, a low gutted groan escaped thin lips. Snape's dark eyes slowly fluttered open. The first thing he noticed was that he was on the floor, and that Rose's face was above him. He used his arms to try and force himself up to sit.

"Not too fast, Professor," said the young Malfoy sitting at his knee, reaching out to help him.

"What…what happened?" Snape asked, regaining his breath.

"You fainted, sir," said Rose, her tone quiet and careful. "You were out cold for a few minutes. I guess the heat was too much for you." Snape grasped his head as he looked around at the little group that had gathered around where he had fallen. Rose also got a good look around her. Her friends were closing in around them with others leaving their desks to get a closer look. "Hey, back off a little. Give him some air."

The command was calm, more like a suggestion. Snape watched as most of the spectators, except for Parkinson and Granger, did as they were told. He allowed Rose to support him with a hand on his shoulder. "You must forgive me…that's never happened before."

"It happens to the best of us." Rose held out the damp cloth, which Snape accepted and pressed it to his head. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know…still lightheaded."

"Should we call for Madam Pomfrey?" asked Hermione, kneeling down next to Rose. Snape shook his head. "No, don't do that. I should be alright."

"But we have to do something," Rose almost pleaded.

"Beckett's right," Draco chimed in. "We can't just sit and wait for you to pass out again."

"I…uh…"

"Have you eaten anything recently?" Harry's voice echoed over. Snape looked beyond Rose's head as he came into view, stepping closer. The faint wizard shook his head; he had barely been able to keep down the food he managed to force down earlier. Harry briefly nodded and turned to face the class. "Does anyone have anything he could have now?"

"I do!" Rose shouted and pointed to her seat. "Harry, in the front pocket of my bag, there's a new bar of chocolate. Bring it here!"

Harry quickly walked over to where Rose's school bag sat on the floor and went through the specified pocket. Sure enough, out came a whole, still wrapped bar of Honeyduke's finest. He brought it to the front of the room and placed it into Rose's waiting hand. She turned back to Snape, digging her nail under a corner of the paper. "It's just a standard bar, nothing too fancy." Rose ripped off a good portion of the wrapping and held the chocolate out to Snape. "Here, take it."

The Potions master shook his head. "Miss Beckett –,"

"No sir, take it. Take the whole thing."

"You don't have to –,"

"I insist. You need it more than I do."

Snape realized that Rose would not be swayed into keeping her precious sweets. Instinct told him that he did not want to eat for fear of the eventual result. But better sense reminded him of his lack of nourishment that day. He also realized that getting his sugar levels up would probably help ease the dizziness. Reluctantly, he took the chocolate bar from Rose. She and Draco watched patiently as he bit off a square, letting it melt on his tongue before chewing carefully. Snape swallowed the velvety morsel, and Rose let out a sigh of relief.

Many of the students began to return to their seats, though they hesitated to touch the cauldrons in front of them. The Potions master ate a few more bites before he handed the bar back to Rose. He shifted his legs. "Alright, let me up." Both Draco and Rose stood. Draco got his hand under Snape's arm to assist him. Rose hovered close to his side in case he stumbled. Once he was on his feet, Snape leaned against his desk to take in a few deep breaths. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rose holding out the candy bar again. Getting the message, he took it back.

"So what do you want us to do, Professor?" asked Draco. Snape could just tell that the boy desperately wished he didn't have to remain so formal in the presence of his classmates.

"What I want is for you all to get back to work. You've wasted enough time as it is."

"But Professor Snape," Hermione spoke up again. "You shouldn't stay in this hot room. You need some more air." As pestering as she was in his current state, the squealy little know-it-all was right. Even then, it still felt like a Muggle thermometer would shatter in there.

"Maybe you should sit in your office for a while," said Rose. "Stay off your feet for a bit. You can cast a Cooling Charm in there." She carefully touched his arm with both hands, as though to lead him over to the connecting door.

"I was just about to suggest that, Professor!" Pansy pushed her way over and grabbed his other arm. Naturally, she smiled up at Snape like she had been calling the shots all along. "Come sir, let me help you."

"Ladies, ladies, please." The Potions master tugged his arms out of their grasp, lightly pushing the girls further apart from each other. Very carefully, Snape stepped over to his office and pushed the door open. He looked behind him to realize that he had a ginger shadow in Rose. She already had her wand out, but Snape stopped her before she could utter a word. He then grabbed hold of his wand and cast the charm on his office. Before going into the cool air, he turned back to his class.

"Mister Malfoy, I am leaving you and Miss Granger in charge. Make sure that no one else does anything stupid. Do remember to keep special watch on Longbottom. And be warned that this door will remain open at all times, so I will hear everything that is going on. Beckett, Parkinson, I better not hear either of you say the other's name. I will return at the end of the period to collect your samples, however feeble they might be." Snape walked through the arched doorway, taking another bite of chocolate. He settled behind his desk and summoned a book off a shelf, listening to the sweet sound of Draco barking orders at his simpleton classmates.

**~HP~**

Severus fully recovered from his fainting spell by the time classes let out for the day. Minerva had run down to check on him as soon as she had heard about it from passing students, and Severus was glad to show her his improved condition. She left muttering something about Pomfrey and the headmaster. Much to his relief, Severus's symptoms seemed to fade with the sunlight. He actually felt pretty fair when it came time to wander up to dinner. However, he should have been better prepared for the questions and odd looks he would attract everywhere he went. Severus had to deal with an invasion of his Slytherins, begging to know if he was alright. The hundreds of stares in the Great hall showed just how far this had spread. Even the staff members weren't immune. He probably would have had to deal with a few too many of them if Albus hadn't already done his best to calm their nerves, whatever they might have been. He couldn't wait to use his commitment to his detentions to escape down to his dungeon lair. He much preferred Rose's company anyway.

The Gryffindor had pulled a stool up to Snape's desk to better suit her given task, which was grinding up the petals of the Hellebore flowers she collected the other day. She sat directly across from the Potions professor as they worked together at a slow, safe pace. The room had cooled drastically through the evening, and now the candles on the walls were the only source of weak heat.

"I still can't believe you passed out like that," said Rose, putting effort into the mortar and pestle in her hands. She seemed to have been dancing around the subject since she got there, just now gaining the courage to ask about it. "I didn't think you looked too good to begin with, but who would have thought it was that bad? Was it just the temperature that did it?"

"I have seen better days, health-wise. I believe the heat was just the trigger for something that might have happened anyway."

Rose wrinkled her fair brow. "But…but you're okay now, right?"

"No need to fret, Miss Beckett. I am quite alright." Snape sipped from the goblet of water sitting to the side. Both Albus and Minerva had advised him to rehydrate himself as much as he could to fight off another collapse. "I also don't anticipate another episode like that, so don't look at me like that."

Rose relaxed her face and let go of the breath that she didn't even know she was holding. "Like what?"

"Like you are watching Longbottom brew Veritaserum,"

Rose laughed, coaxing Snape to do the same. "Leave Neville alone, he's trying. He's got enough to think about, Auror training in a year." She reached for a few new petals and placed them in the little stone basin. The Potions master smirked. "It's beyond me why anyone would think to make that whelp an Auror."

"Cut it out, Professor," Rose said with a certain shake of her head. "Say, can I ask you something?"

"I suppose you could," said Snape, glancing between the ingredients in his hands and the young witch in front of him.

"Was it scary when you blacked out? I mean, I don't have much to go by. But for something like that to just happen, it had to be frightening."

Snape looked directly at Rose with an inquisitive gaze. He hadn't expected a question like that, or the strangely youthful expression in Rose's face. Not wanting to give her any kind of impression, he tried to stay focused on his work. He reached for the storage jar that he had set aside. "Not as much as you would think. Like I said, I was already not feeling well. When you're in the moment, you don't really have time to wrap your mind around what's happening to you."

"I see," Rose nodded her head, trying not to let her eyes travel to Snape's high collar. "Well, it certainly was scary for a lot of us. You should have seen the look on Parkinson's face. She looked like she was about to piss herself. And I haven't seen Malfoy move that fast in a long time."

"Your little Dream Team looked hot and bothered as well. I do hope they were not vying for control of the situation."

Rose laughed again, more softly this time. "If they had, it would have only been to help. They were worried, make no mistake about that."

"What about you?" asked Snape, setting down his pestle. It had been eating at him all evening, and he could feel a slight tension in his chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped that her place at his side was more than just her sense of responsibility.

"You damn near gave me a heart attack."

The student looked back down, just as Snape could feel the warmth creeping into his cheeks. Though he knew she would say that his fainting startled her, he didn't think it was anything like that. It was obvious to him that Rose did not despise him as much as she once did, yet her earnest admissions still came as a surprise. He had gotten a lot of concern-driven remarks that evening, yet he didn't feel it until now. "Did…did I now?"

"Yeah," said Rose. "I thought that your health had taken a turn for the worse. After what happened on Sunday, I couldn't just sit there, now could I?" She too put down her pestle and reached for the storage jar to pour in the contents of her bowl.

"No, I suppose not." Snape leaned back into his seat. "Come to think of it, that wouldn't be very like you."

Rose smiled brightly, still focused on scrapping the crushed flowers into the jar. "I try, I really do."

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. There was something about that smile that was so calming, pleasing almost. Feeling that odd shiver, Severus watched Rose, letting his eyes travel up her frame. Her long, smooth hair was hanging around her shoulders. The candlelight shone off it, and the longer Severus stared, the more he saw it brought out the red hue. The light freckles on her cheekbones could have disappeared in the shadows, leaving behind that healthy fairness. Actually, those freckles seemed to be the only flaw in Rose's skin, especially her face…her face. Severus had to admit something to himself. Rose was never ugly. The wizards in her family hardly ever were. But he never seemed to notice how she had carried that on. To remember the little ginger girl that arrived there eight years before, it was remarkable to see the lovely young woman she had become. The warmth in his cheeks started to spread through his body.

But then Rose suddenly looked up at him, still smiling. Severus's gaze locked with hers. Rose's lips were moving, but Severus couldn't hear the words. The only thing he could focus on was her eyes. The upward glance caught the little flames, reflecting in a near sparkle. The brightness of the blue did not fade with the light. All of a sudden, Severus felt that strange tremor inside. Why was it that he never noticed how pretty those eyes could be? No, not just pretty. Right then, they were striking. He could feel his heart beating slightly faster at the sight.

"Professor?"

Snape was jerked back into the here and now by Rose's curious voice. He breathed deeper, again feeling his face flush. "Pardon me, Miss Beckett. Come again?"

"I asked you if this was enough Hellebore for your stores."

"Yes, that's enough," said Snape, taking a quick glance at the now full jar. In seconds, his focus was back on Rose's face, her striking eyes. "You feeling alright?" asked Rose, cocking her head to the side.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just been a long day."

"I'll bet."

The Potions master quietly told Rose to take the jar to his office and to straighten up the room. She did so in a calm, almost lively pace. She rinsed out the mortars and stowed them away in a cupboard. She used a spare jar to hold the leftover flowers, and left them on a high shelf. The whole time, Snape couldn't take his eyes off her. Even when she disappeared through his office door, he watched the arch for her return a few moments later. Snape tried to divert his attention away from Rose. He ultimately failed when those bright blues turned back to him

"Anything else you need me to do?" asked Rose. Snape shook his head. "No, you can go…and Miss Beckett?" He caught her just as her hand was on the door handle.

"Yes?"

"Thank you…for bearing with me this week. This hasn't been an easy month and I appreciate the help."

"I'm glad to hear that, sir. Now you go straight to bed. You need the rest." Rose flashed her white teeth again before pushing the door open and leaving Snape to his precious solitude.

Severus dipped his fingers into his goblet and smeared the water over his forehead. He breathed deeply to slow his heart rate, also trying to clear his head. He tried to banish the image of Rose's face from his thoughts, but how could he? It wasn't every day that he came across beauty like that, not any that he cared to notice. It wasn't too often that he felt more cared for by a student than by his closest allies. And he had never been so fond of someone like Rose. Disbelief sat in Severus's stomach like a stone when he realized that he knew this feeling. Many years had passed, but its familiarity was still as clear as the blue in Rose's gaze.

He was in such a rush to his quarters that he almost forgot to lock up his classroom on the way out. He had every intention of going right off to sleep, but his busy, busy mind kept him pacing around the sitting room for nearly forty minutes. Only after he surrendered to those irresistible visions did he feel relaxed enough to crawl into bed. However, Severus would end up falling asleep thinking of those eyes and that smile. His unusually vivid dreams were what made him fully realize that his fondness had become a fancy.

**~HP~**

_**The plot thickens...**_

_**I want my readers to know that I won't be posting as often as I would like. I will try to get a chapter or two up every two weeks or so, depending on how fast my beta and I can work together, and also to give myself time to work on my other projects, namely some new Sherlock fics and a Lord of the Rings story. Just hang in there and keep up the good reading.**_

_**I appreciate everyone for reading, and reviews are welcome. Thank you!**_


	23. The Last Detention

**_Hi everyone, I've finally gotten around to posting this new chapter. Sorry the wait was a little long, but life got in the way, mostly my day job, a mad attempt to read "The Fault in our Stars" before the end of the month, and some recent inspiration for my Sherlock fic "The Copper Breeches." _**

**_Ok, just a fair warning, from here is where the language is going to get more embellished and flowery, which I know can deter some. I hope I didn't go too overboard._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

"I just want to be sure that there isn't anything seriously wrong. I don't exactly wish to pass out in the middle of another class," said Severus, leaning back onto the bed. He hoped that the Mediwitch couldn't hear the slight weariness in his calm tone. A certain someone had made sleeping a little tricky the night before.

Poppy very casually waved her wand over his bare torso. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't be too concerned. Faintness is not too uncommon in the first trimester, as I'm sure you have noticed." Severus nodded, rather reluctantly. "But it would help to know how it got to the point of actual collapse. Did you eat anything at lunchtime?"

"Believe me, Poppy. I tried, but I had already taken one dose of potion and I needed another before the meal was over."

"What did I tell you about that potion?" Poppy almost scolded like she was addressing a child.

"I only used it a few times in the last few days. This has been a very difficult week. I couldn't manage all the time."

"So I've heard," sighed Poppy. She had been getting fairly regular updates on Severus's condition from the four professors in on his secret, as well as from Albus. "And what exactly were you doing when you fainted?"

"I was just going over the lesson as I always would."

"Were you standing or walking much?"

"Yes," said Severus, once again nodding. "The students will tell you that I became overheated. I might have to agree with them, actually. Is it normal to be more sensitive to temperatures in pregnancy?"

"In some cases, yes," said Poppy. She finished up the remainder of her diagnostic spells in silence, occasionally demonstrating her thoughts with short hums. She flicked back the tip of her wand. "Well, I cannot find anything out of the ordinary. The child appears to be unaffected by your fainting spell."

"So it's…it's alright?"

Poppy smiled at the uncertainty in Severus's question. "Yes, the child is alright. But if you don't mind, I would like to talk to you about your more recent state." She sat down at the edge of the bed and turned to Severus.

"I don't need another lecture, Poppy."

"I'm not lecturing you. I just want to give you some suggestions. You and I both know that you cannot go on as you have been. With morning sickness like yours, I worry that it will prevent you and the child from getting good nourishment."

Severus sat up and rolled his eyes. He started on the buttons of his shirt. "I tried crackers before getting up. They seem to work for a short while, until I sit down to breakfast."

"Perhaps you should also try drinking ginger tea in the mornings, or chamomile in the evenings. That could settle your stomach if you are already feeling ill. Do you think that might help?"

"It's worth a try," said Severus. "At this point, I'm willing to try anything."

"This really has been a rough week for you, hasn't it?" asked Poppy, frowning. Severus just shifted to sit beside her. The Mediwitch continued. "If I might make another suggestion, I think your system might be getting a bit overwhelmed as of late. Try having six or seven small meals a day, or snacks every few hours. That way, you will be able to get some food in you, and you won't have to force down three large meals and end up making yourself sick. In fact, you should take to eating like that from now on. As for the fainting, don't try and push yourself so hard. They don't call it a delicate condition for nothing. If you start to feel lightheaded, listen to your body and take it easy. Stay off your feet when you don't have to be, and don't get up from your seat too quickly."

"I will do what I can."

"You will do as we say or it will come back to bite you in the arse." Poppy rested a careful hand on Severus's arm. "Just one more question. How much stress would you say that you were under these few days?"

Severus shrugged. "On a scale of one to ten, I would say an eight…maybe a nine." Poppy sighed to herself with raised eyebrows. The tired wizard looked up at her. "What?"

"You see, Severus, I have a feeling that stress might be part of what makes you so miserable. Minerva noticed that last week, you were in much better health when you were calmer. I know that your moods might be making it a bit difficult, but you will be much better off if you keep your tension to a minimum. It does a lot of good for you both when you have nothing to be tense about."

"I always have a reason to be tense these days," said Severus, shaking his head. _'And for once, the students have nothing to do with it.'_

"You are still a little unsure about your situation, aren't you?"

Severus let his eyes fall down to his midsection. He wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn't muster up the pretense it would have required. Besides, he doubted that Poppy would buy it for a second. He wondered what gave her that idea, if a meddling old wizard had anything to do with it. "More than a little," he muttered.

"Oh Severus, don't get so worked up. Albus told me you were having some doubts about your pregnancy. You have more than enough time to decide what you are going to do. But right now, you should be thinking about what's good for the child as well as yourself. You want it to be born healthy, don't you?"

Severus nodded. "The child is innocent. As selfish as I am, it should not have to come to harm because of me."

"And so far, it hasn't," said Poppy in an attempt at encouragement. "Think for a moment. Just the fact that you came to me today shows that you are doing the right thing. You wanted to make sure there was nothing wrong, like any good parent would. It's hardly my business to say, but you could be a good father. No matter what, you owe it to that baby to give it the best start possible."

"I know, I know." Severus looked up at the clock that hung beside the door. He decided that the time was a good enough excuse to get out of there while he still could. "I should be going." He stood up and started for the door. Poppy nodded her understanding. She followed him out into the open wing, and she bid him goodbye just outside her office.

Severus took his time in walking back to the dungeons. He would have liked to blame his condition, that he had so much going through his head that he couldn't do anything about it except to walk it off. He did have a lot to think about, but the child and what to do with it had been shoved into the back of his mind since Severus found something more troubling to ponder in Rose.

He could not seem to keep her from his thoughts. He could not stop thinking about how taken he was the night before, about how subtly beautiful she could be. Fleeting thoughts were punctured by a fair face, red hair, and those haunting blue eyes. And if it wasn't her looks, she was beautiful in her compassionate spirit. It was almost hard to believe that underneath the stubborn, short-tempered Gryffindor was actually a gentle, understanding girl. It was often difficult to make Severus feel like he was truly somebody, and Rose managed to do just that. She had this ability to make Severus feel like he was the only person in her world when they were alone together. As self-centered as students could be, Gryffindors in particular, he sincerely felt that Rose did care for him, even in the slightest. She had to, she practically admitted it. Just the mere idea of it had Severus feeling that well-known fluttering.

That, however, was where it came to an abrupt halt. This was wrong. As wonderful as it felt, it was just wrong. Severus wasn't attracted to just any girl. Severus was attracted to his student. She was just a kid! Yes, she was mature in more than just years. But no amount of reason or perhaps denial could change the fact that Severus was old enough to be Rose's father. He had certain boundaries to live by, as any teacher would. She was of age, but he was her authority. Lust for Rose was just as forbidden as molesting one of the little ones.

He came across a set of windows that overlooked an open courtyard. Attracted by the noise of voices, Severus stopped to look out over the students congregated below. Children of all ages were spread out in the square, using their midmorning break to do everything from catching up on castle gossip to copying someone else's homework answers. The clouds hovering over the valley didn't seem to deter them.

The professor's dark eye caught sight of Rose in a far corner. She was perched on a low wall beside Lavender Brown, who was sitting next to Parvati Patil. It seemed that the ladies were in the midst of some electrifying conversation. From his perspective, Brown looked like she would hyperventilate in her own laughter. Patil didn't seem to be too far behind. For Merlin's sake, what could a bunch of teenage girls find so hilarious? Rose however didn't look as wrapped up in their humor. Instead, she offered a light chuckle with a flashy grin. Hair blowing in the autumn wind, her delicate hands clung to her books in her lap. Though she occasionally looked out at those around her, her attention always returned to her friends. Every time she spoke to them, she offered the same charm she had shown him these last few days.

Severus watched her from above, taking in her beauty and smiling to himself with a sigh. He could already feel his stresses beginning to drain out. Severus had to surrender that the only safe admiration was at a distance. Besides, it was just a fancy, nothing more. There was no harm in that. She was a lovely girl with a lovelier personality. All Severus could ever really want from her was to continue on as they were, continue making him feel as special as he did. It was almost a shame that tonight was to be their last detention.

With one last look, he continued on his way. He would be seeing her in a few hours anyway.

**~HP~**

Rose looked up to the third floor windows in time to see Snape walk past. His shifty gaze briefly shot down on the dull, overcast square before he focused ahead. Leave it to him to spy without them realizing. Her eleven year-old self might have been disturbed to think of the menacing wizard watching them from up there. Now she was thankful to see that he was up and walking around. In spite of herself and where she was, cheerful relief flooded in. She wondered what her friends would say if they really knew how happy she was that Snape seemed to be okay. She wasn't afraid to admit it to herself, but she probably would still get a good ribbing from the guys.

In the end, Rose might not have cared if her judgment was called into question. She knew what felt right to her, not her classmates. What she knew was that she liked Snape as a person. Strip away You-know-who's sinister servant, and he was very much a decent man in her eyes. She liked how he was able to put aside bias to talk with her like an equal. She liked how he would listen to what she had to say and would not immediately shoot her down. He did not criticize what she did, not even her affection for Muggles. And whether or not she was seeking it, he would give her his honest advice. In a few short weeks, he had made her feel better about her family than a lot of other people.

Some would argue that Snape's attitude hadn't improved since the war, but Rose knew that deep down, the man had somehow changed, and for the better. Though it would remain unsaid, she adored this.

Rose was disappointed the last time her detentions finished, but now she was almost saddened to see it end. She had come to really enjoy Snape's company. Compared to some of the people she normally hung around with, she much preferred talking with the Potions master. Actually, she had been looking forward to her evening sessions this week. Perhaps it was a good thing that Snape had been in bad shape these days. She worked hard enough for the both of them while using his illness as a cover to stay longer. She did genuinely care for his health, as everyone saw in yesterday's class. But she also wouldn't argue if Snape needed her to do a few extra tasks for him. That way, she got some extra time to chat with him, which he almost never turned down. It would be tough to see that end.

A sharp tap on her knee caught her attention. Realizing she had let her mind wander, she turned her head back to Lavender and Parvati and immersed herself back into their talk of how Hannah Abbot had decided that she and Ernie were not so compatible the first time she caught him checking out a girl in another year.

**~HP~**

Hours passed, classes came and went, and the sun sank behind the mountains. Severus had taken Poppy's advice about reducing stress to heart. Secretly hoping that the answer lay in something so simple, he went about his business as he normally would while concentrating on a calm frame of mind. What he did was conduct his classes while imagining himself in as relaxing an environment as he could think of. He remembered how laid-back he was when he had chats with Draco during breaks, when he oversaw Rose at night. As a result, his stomach had not bothered him much at all. The lightheadedness had dissipated for the moment. And at dinner, Severus had finally managed to tuck away nearly a full plate of food for the first time in weeks, maybe even months.

Armed with a full stomach and new ways to manage morning sickness, Severus was then able to focus on the impending detention and the young Gryffindor that awaited him in his classroom.

Dragon-hide gloves shielded Rose's hands as she carefully dissected the hearts from a bucket of dead salamanders and dropped them into a large, slime-filled jar, where they would ferment for a practical lesson the following week. Congealing blood occasionally squirted up her arms, and the smell it produced curled nose hairs. It was a disgusting task by most people's definition, but Rose didn't balk at it. She sliced and clipped slippery skin with a surprisingly lively attitude. While other kids would bitch and complain, Rose laughed at the comments she and Snape made about a story they had read in that morning's _Prophet._ Apparently, a Ministry official had been seen sneaking into a London hotel with a Muggle prostitute.

Severus did not bother to divert Rose away from their light-hearted, albeit mean-spirited banter. Seeing that smile had been a highlight in his unusually leisurely afternoon. And now, it was his quiet delight to hear her chuckling. Why couldn't all their nights together have been like this? With the moments ticking away with the hands of the clock, Severus wanted to make the most out of this evening. After all, he doubted that Rose would end up in such deep trouble again. Five weeks of detention could have steered the Marauders straight at her age.

The time was just short of ten when Rose tossed out the last mutilated salamander corpse. She jammed a stopper into the jar of hearts and set it on a very high shelf. Crossing the room to the sink, Rose peeled the gloves off to wash the goo off her arms.

"I'll bet you anything that he'll resign by Monday," she said, smearing soap up her forearms and rinsing under hot water. "Nobody in politics can come back from getting caught with their trousers off."

"Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if that announcement was in tomorrow's evening edition," said Snape. Rose shut off the water and turned back to face the Potions master, dabbing her arms and hands dry. She looked up to check the time, but before she could so much as take a breath in, Snape pointed her to the front most desk. He pulled his wand from the folds of his robes and produced in front of her a quill and well, and a roll of parchment. "Since this is our last night together, I believe it is fitting that you prove to me that you have learned your lesson, once and for all."

"You want me to write lines, don't you sir?" said Rose with a crooked smile.

"Indeed, I do. I want you to write, _'I am a grown woman, not a fit-pitching toddler. Fighting is for children.'_ I want that whole roll covered, top to bottom."

Rose jokingly sighed, shaking her head to herself. "Anything you say, Professor." She dipped the quill and started scratching away at the rough paper.

With her attention on her writing, Severus stole a chance to watch Rose from his seat. Again, the darkened room did nothing to undermine her features. With her hair pulled back and away from her face, her pale skin almost glowed. Though the wizard wished he could stop himself from all but staring at her, there wasn't much way to ignore that beauty. He let his lips tug into a small smile, unseen to the student before him. She actually did not have to be writing those lines. Severus was sure she already knew better, and he had had a number of stern conversations with Pansy Parkinson of the same nature. He just did not want to see her go just yet.

There was no harm in buying a little more time, right?

Snape paid no notice to the time, or to how fast or slow Rose was writing. He was actually surprised when Rose placed her quill into its well after what turned out to be only forty minutes. It seemed to him that Rose wanted to get upstairs as quickly as she could. _'Wouldn't be surprised if she has people waiting to celebrate,' _he thought to himself.

Rose rolled up the parchment and floated over to the professor's desk. "There you are, sir," she said, handing the roll to him. Snape unrolled the parchment to inspect her work. The writing was not as clean as many of the essays she had written over the years, but the words were clear and they filled up the page. Snape resisted the urge to sigh. Though he relished in Rose's company, he also knew that he couldn't keep her there all night.

"Very well Miss Beckett, that will be all. I suppose that I can now say that you have your evenings back."

"There isn't anything else you need me to do?" asked Rose with an odd tweak in her fair brow.

"No, I believe everything is in order." Snape tried to disguise his disappointment as the tiredness they had both become so accustomed to. "Besides, I can tell that you are just dying to return to your normal life. I'm sure Potter will be delighted to have his precious reserve back at his full command." Rose giggled, coaxing a smirk out of Snape. He quickly shook some sense back into himself and bid Rose a good night. She did the same with that little smile and that same sparkle in her eye. In his head, Snape was growling. She had to make it more difficult, didn't she? Did she even know how pretty she was without trying?

Rose started to walk towards the closed classroom door, but halfway across the room, she came to an unsteady stop. She turned back to look over Snape's head at the clock on the wall. The look on her face was that of slight perplex. "What is it?" asked Snape.

"It's a bit strange, leaving so soon," said Rose, cocking her head. "You kept me past curfew so often…I'll be honest, I got used to it. It'll be funny to walk in on my friends an hour before they're expecting."

"I think you are the only person I have ever met who would complain about detention ending early." Snape shook his head with a crooked smirk.

"I'm not complaining." Rose shook her head back at Snape. "It's been five weeks. It was routine for me to be out so late. Are you sure that everything's all sorted?"

"You want more work?" Snape asked, almost at a loss for words. This had to be the strangest thing he had heard since he found out he was pregnant.

"Just for a few more minutes, so I get in when I'm supposed to and I don't walk in on anybody snogging."

Dispelling that lovely image from his mind, Snape thought for a moment. Rose didn't have to say it for him to understand that she wasn't ready to leave. Her motives might have been a little dubious, but in a castle filled with horny teenagers, that idea was quite plausible. Perhaps she was like him and preferred a quieter common room. Or maybe she was telling the truth, that she had simply grown accustomed to their so-called routine. Whatever the reason, it was still a chance for Snape to spend a little more time with her. If only there were something more she could do. In her attempts to lend a hand, Rose had taken care of much of the preparations for the next two weeks' worth of classes. There had to be something. She didn't even have to do much, just something to stick around for. He looked in the direction of his office, seeking inspiration.

He unexpectedly thought of something and looked back at Rose, who was waiting patiently for his response. He took a breath to subdue the slight nerves that seemed to suddenly rise up before he spoke in a calm, collected tone.

"Do you care for sherry?"

**~HP~**

"I tell you, of all the things I thought I would do, I never thought I would be having a drink with my Potions master, the ex Death Eater."

Snape resisted the urge to shake his head as he poured out a glass of the amber alcohol for Rose. She sat before his office desk, relaxed into the wingchair with her legs crossed. "Believe me, Miss Beckett. If someone told me last year that I would be sitting here with a student who was not in Slytherin, I would have thought they were barking mad." He handed her the glass and stuck the cork back into the bottle.

"I suppose I'm getting a glimpse of what it's like to be a Slytherin," said Rose, swirling the liquid around the glass.

"Hardly," said Snape. "Not many students get to taste that. Consider it a reward for all the extra work you insisted upon this week."

"Oh, well…thank you Professor." Rose smiled and took a sip. She flinched at the taste. "Oh my…my god, that's got to be the best sherry I've ever had."

"Yes, I've heard that one before." Snape tipped the bottle to the side, pretending to read a label he had already read a million times over. "To tell the truth, it might be older than you are by now."

"Are you sure that you won't have any? We're both adults here."

"In light of recent events, I decided it was best to stop drinking for a while."

"I see," Rose giggled. "Is that the other reason to let me have a glass? You want to get rid of that stuff?"

"In a manner of speaking," said Snape as he tucked the bottle away into its hiding place. Truthfully, he was hoping that there would be enough for a good, stiff drink for him to enjoy immediately after giving birth. He quickly decided that Rose would be the last to drink until then.

Rose gently gulped down a mouthful or two, sighing her satisfaction. Her gaze kept shifting up and down between Snape and the glass. "This is so weird. I mean it really is, sitting here, with _you. _Weeks ago, you could have driven me to drink. How do I go from that to this?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Snape leaned back into his chair, not letting his gaze wander away from the girl. "Until recently, I took you to be one of those people, those who wouldn't spit on me if I was on fire."

"Don't be ridiculous, Professor," said Rose, chuckling. "You know I respect you too much. I certainly don't mean to cause you any more trouble after tonight. I'm sure that you have better things to do than sit here and watch me all night. You must be sick and tired of me by now."

Snape forced a smirk, feeling his insides shift. Could she have been any more wrong? "You must have an awfully low opinion of yourself if you think I would not appreciate what you have done for me this week. I will admit, it was nice to have someone else taking care of things around here. But yes, I am ready to return to handling my own affairs."

"If you feel up to it."

"Trust me, I do. For now, I can only hope that you mind your temper and stay out of trouble."

"I apologize for even having a temper," Rose said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Besides, it wouldn't be a problem if Parkinson didn't go out of her way to provoke me. You've seen her do it; you let her get away with it."

Snape cocked his head at her. "Ah, but you always had the choice to not react. Eight years, Miss Beckett. Eight years and you never seemed to fully grasp that concept. You are an intelligent girl. It's embarrassing to watch you two act so childish, screaming at each other like you were committed to a madhouse."

"But Professor Snape, I never started any of those rows. It was always Parkinson."

"Or so you say," said Snape.

"Use Veritaserum, rummage through my thoughts, I speak the truth."

"I do not doubt your word, Miss Beckett. But that doesn't mean I don't doubt Miss Parkinson's either."

"You just always chose to believe her," Rose said before gulping down a mouthful of booze. "And still do."

Snape could sense the tension building around her, and he knew that he had to think fast to stay on her good side. "Yes, and I admit that might not have been the best thing on my part. And besides, no matter who starts it, the two of you always end up going at each other anyway. The reality is that the only people who know the full details are Miss Parkinson and yourself."

"And my friends, and her gang," said Rose with a certain headshake and a smile. "I mean it though. If she stopped picking on me and left me and my friends alone, then there wouldn't be any more problems for you and Professor McGonagall."

"Of that, I have no doubt," said Snape, offering a weak smile. Rose smiled back, swirling her sherry around the glass. She let go of a small sigh. "I wish I knew what the hell her problem with me is."

"You don't know?" asked Snape. He had noticed how Rose had been a particular target of Parkinson's over the years, even more so than Granger. If anyone should know the reason why, it ought to be her.

"How could I? As you said, we've been going at it for eight years. If it wasn't one thing, it was something else."

The Potions master looked up toward the ceiling, his gaze betraying his displeasure. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. I'm almost curious to ask what she has said to you." Across the desk, Rose saw her window of opportunity, and immediately jumped through.

"She's said virtually everything by now," she said, beginning to count down her fingers. "I've gone from ginger, to half-blood, to brownnoser, to phony, and now apparently, I'm a raving bitch. No matter what I do, she always finds something worth antagonizing. It doesn't even affect her, and she does it anyway."

"Parkinson was just that sort of girl who became that sort of woman. There could be many reasons why she terrorizes other girls. There could many more as to why she takes a special interest in you."

"It would still help to have some sort of clue, sir." Rose looked up at Snape with a sad little smirk.

This certainly was not the first time someone had asked Severus why his crop of students acted the way they did. However, this was the first time where his first instinct was not to make excuses for them. He had watched Parkinson take the mickey out of Rose more times than he could recall. There was also no hiding the fact that he more than often sat back and let it happen. But after getting to know the Gryffindor, and seeing how delightful she really was, he suddenly saw her as the victim of meaningless verbal abuse. The victim that Minerva had been trying to make him see for all those years. He felt the color creeping into his face at the thought.

"I do not know for sure, Miss Parkinson was never too inclined to share her thoughts with me. But after listening to so many rants about how annoying you are, it is easy to form your own theories."

"If you're about to tell me that you agree with her, I'd rather not hear it."

"I don't believe I said anything of the sort."

"Then what is your theory?" asked Rose.

Snape leaned forward, resting his arms on the desktop. He looked at Rose with a straight, relaxed expression. "I believe that Miss Parkinson is merely the victim of poor self-esteem. She probably sees something in you particularly that she wishes she had." Rose pulled back from Snape's desk, clear confusion written across her face.

"Like what?" Her voice was small, almost reluctant in the presence of her professor. At the same time, it was incredulous, as though she didn't believe the idea of Pansy Parkinson being jealous of her. Snape looked into those beautiful, blue eyes and saw a shred of doubt. The way things were looking, he had only one shot at this. He took in a breath, looking at her with all the honesty he could muster up.

"Well for one, your mind. I know Parkinson; she's not one of the brightest creatures to walk the earth. She has her strengths like anyone else, but her weaknesses seem to outweigh them. You might not be perfect yourself, but your marks have always been higher than hers, especially in my classes. You are worldlier than she is, well-spoken when you must be. I know you once spread yourself among the houses, while Parkinson never felt the need to associate outside of Slytherin. She saw you gain popularity on a broader scale than house loyalty."

Rose shook her head. "I'm not popular."

"But people still know who you are, for one reason or another. And you didn't have to bully anyone for that to happen. I don't think Parkinson likes it when other girls get attention like that, as innocent as it might be. I remember those friends of yours who left. The four of you were a walking Hogwarts banner." Snape noticed the glimmer in the corner of Rose's eye, nearly distracting him from her frown. Oh, that was probably the wrong thing to say still so early in the term. He scrambled to recover the mood. "I think that's a testament to your ability to relate to nearly anyone, something Parkinson could never do. She's like too many of my house. She was brought up in prejudice and bigotry. She probably gets frustrated to see a known half-blood with a soft spot for Muggles get the attention she wants."

Rose nodded, her gaze drawn inward. She tipped back her glass and swallowed another good swig of sherry. She didn't look very convinced. The dark haired wizard summoned a bit of courage to get on with his last point. "Might I also add that she is not the most attractive of women to walk through these halls." He held his breath, worried about what kind of reaction he would get. To his relief, Rose giggled under her breath.

"Well…I'm not the next Miss Wizarding Britain either, but I can see what you're getting at."

"You see what I mean then? You might not think you are exceptionally good-looking, but Parkinson might. It is entirely possible that she sees some of the attention you have gotten from some of your male acquaintances as being romantically influenced."

Rose laughed harder. "If only she knew that those male acquaintances were always drawn elsewhere. And besides, she's got Malfoy. For her standards, I don't think she has much to complain about."

"That's rich coming from you," said Snape. "I know what you have said about Malfoy, you and your housemates."

"Look Professor, I understand if he has issues, but we all do really. I'll lay off him if that's what you want."

"I cannot control how you feel about him, so don't humor me with pretense. And likewise, I cannot control what goes on inside Parkinson's head. I can only tell you that whatever it truly is that sets her off, in the long run of it all, she may very well look back on her behavior and realize how petty it really was." Rose gave Snape a little nod before downing the last of her drink. However, she continued to finger the delicate glass, tapping the sides with her nails. Snape looked at her, puzzled. "Is something wrong?"

"No," said Rose. "It's just funny, being told that it's not really my fault, by you of all people."

"Now Miss Beckett," Snape said, shaking his head. "You don't mean to say that you actually believe any of what Parkinson says, do you?"

"Of course not," Rose looked down at her shoes. "Although…I did have my moments when I was younger. There's only so much someone can take."

Oh, he knew that too well! Severus might as well have been talking to his eighteen year-old self. Parkinson had been doing virtually the same thing James Potter had done to him all those years before. Rose might have carried herself as well as she could, but no one was meant to endure incessant bullying. No one deserved it anymore than he did, especially someone as brilliant as her. She was a better woman than Parkinson could ever dream herself to be. He silently cursed himself for ignoring all those opportunities to stop the squealy brat.

"I will say this much for you. You cannot please everyone, as much as you would like to. You have had your moments where you have been very stubborn and very annoying. But at the same time, you have become a strong-willed young woman. It is clear to me that you know what you want, and nothing will get in your way. But you go about it in a more proper way. Just the fact that you brush off the majority of your encounters with my students is admirable of you, and I'm not the only one who would say that. I also cannot ignore the fact that you Gryffindors have a knack for finding success. My experiences tell me that you will no doubt end up in a better place than Parkinson in the years to come. If I were you, I wouldn't let pointless taunting get to me too much."

Rose stared at her professor with full attention. She didn't look as befuddled as she probably should, given the circumstances. She also didn't look as unhappy. She looked more like she was holding back some reluctant wonder. Her eyes met his, and she made no move to redirect them. Snape felt the shudder of attraction inside as she smiled again.

"It's nice to know you think that," said Rose, almost like she couldn't think of much else. "Why didn't you say sooner that you were on my side?"

"You just happen to be more pleasant than a lot of my girls. That doesn't necessarily mean that I'm on your side." Snape looked to the clock sitting on the desktop. Eleven thirty: half an hour past Seventh year curfew. He sighed to himself. "Well, I believe that is more than enough stalling. If your housemates are doing anything in Gryffindor tower, I doubt it will be in the common room for all to see"

Rose sighed as well. She hauled herself to her feet and set her empty glass down on the desk. She waited patiently for Snape's last late detention slip; her protection from Filch's evening patrols. Snape handed it to her and she stuffed it into her pocket. She then shuffled toward the open door. "Thank you, sir. I guess I'll see you in class on Monday."

"Yes," said Snape, rising from his own seat. "Now go, get out of my office. And stay away from Parkinson."

"I will, no worries," said Rose with a light chuckle. "Thanks for the sherry."

Severus watched her leave from his office door. He hoped that she enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers. And yet she did not look back as she left the empty classroom, and her heels clicked at a quick, steady pace down the dark halls. Now it was back to normal life for the two of them, or as normal as normal could be. Severus felt a twist in his gut, wondering if that was the last time he would have Rose to himself. But he quickly tried to dismiss the thought.

The only safe adoration was from afar.

**~HP~**

_**I'll have more posted in a few days, if not tomorrow night. In the meantime, keep on reading, and keep on reviewing. Thank you so much!**_


	24. Highs and Lows

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Hey folks, filler chapter alert! To be honest, I just wanted to get this chapter out of the way so that I can devote more of my time to other things. However, for those who have been following, and for those who are just joining, it is IMPORTANT to know that the information in this and other chapters are a crucial part of the story, and it will all eventually come together in the end.**

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Enjoy!**

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

"That's it, Dean! Keep it tight! Nice steal, Demelza! Keep moving, Ron! Seamus, come out! Ritchie, you're in!"

Harry straddled his Firebolt between his legs, keeping most of his weight up front without tipping into a nosedive. Hovering some fifty feet above the ground, he looked out over the Quidditch pitch, whipping his head back and forth among the seven players zipping around below. The brisk, autumn air tore right through him, blowing hair in front of his glasses. The first match against Slytherin was just weeks away, and he felt all the pressure in the world to turn up with the team that the whole school was expecting. They were good, no doubts about that. But if the rumors about Slytherin were even remotely true, they still had some work to do.

He groaned in his throat when he saw Demelza get the Quaffle knocked out from under her by her own partner. Emily Block was very fast and made a good chunk of her goal attempts. She was just very headstrong, not to mention very eager to please. If Harry could break her habit of rushing for the Quaffle, even if it was one of their chasers who had it, then they would have a much smoother game. It was good to finally have Rose back without any fear of Snape interfering with her involvement, but she wasn't playing to the same caliber as in previous practices. It was like her mind wasn't totally there. Twice already he had to jog her back into the match, and a Bludger had only just missed her head on one occasion. But then when she went for the hoops, the only thing that stopped her from scoring was Ron. Harry hoped that whatever was going on with her would resolve itself quickly. Demleza and Dean couldn't carry the whole team on their shoulders.

Harry didn't know which was harder, keeping track of the four chasers or keeping an eye on Seamus, Ritchie Coote, and their shared reserve Patrick O'Malley. As far as beaters went, they were capable at what they did. But it looked like they were using the others as target practice for the real thing. Good thing the girls were so quick. And all the while, Nickolas Bowman sped around above them all, in hot pursuit of the Snitch. Of course, he could have caught it twenty minutes ago; there were times when Harry was glad that he was still lead Seeker.

"Emily, you've got to work with Demelza! You're a team, in case it's missed you! Rose, get your head in the game and focus on the Quaffle!"

Harry could feel his voice getting hoarser and hoarser with every shout he tossed on the air. Thankfully for him, the team also got better and better with every goal. The Quidditch captain briefly wondered why he worried so much in weeks gone by. He picked the right people, and he picked the right reserves. The way he saw things, Slytherin and their big burly beaters could watch the hell out.

The mock score tied up, and Harry decided that he was satisfied with his team's progress. He called out for them to land and leaned downward himself. He stumbled to his feet beside a sweaty, red-faced Ron. "Excellent job, guys. That'll be it for today –,"

_*Bam*_

Bowman crashed to the ground and rolled towards Harry's feet. He held up his tightly clenched fist, floppy little gold wings hanging from the creases. "I got it, Harry!" he gasped. "I got the Snitch!"

"Very good, Nickolas. Now, I think we're in pretty great shape, but we're not quite there yet. I'm going to try and get in one more practice before the first match. Keep up the good work, and we've got a shot at the championship."

The Gryffindor team broke apart and went their separate ways. While most of them retreated into the locker rooms or headed up into the stands to meet up with waiting friends, Harry noticed Rose dump her broom off with the rest of the equipment and then head off in the direction of the castle, wiping the glaze of perspiration off her forehead. A little concerned that she didn't stop to talk to anyone like she normally would, Harry nudged Ron's arm and gestured to her turned back. The two of them jogged ahead to catch up with her. She only briefly looked at them and smiled when they came up on either side of her.

"I can walk up to the castle by myself, you know," she said with, thankfully, a hint of sprightly humor.

"What's up with you today, Rose?" asked Harry, referring to the quiet, distant air that had surrounded Rose most of that morning, leading up to their practice. With Rose being rather bubbly on the best of days, this was a little disconcerting to the Head Boy.

"Nothing, just a little tired."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, attracting Rose's attention from her left to her right. "I know that look. That's how Hermione looks when she's thinking about something, and not deliberately either."

Rose shrugged. "So what if I am? I'm not hurting anyone."

"You could have paid better attention to O'Malley. He could have knocked you off your broom."

"He's right," Harry agreed as they approached the bridge into the courtyard. Rose picked up her pace like she was trying to get away from them. "If you're going to fill in for someone, I don't need you getting hurt too. If there's anything you want to talk about –,"

"I'm fine, you two," said Rose. "Don't go getting tied up in knots about me."

"Come on," Ron scoffed. "You look as though Snape decided you were below him again."

Rose rolled her eyes. "If I were worried about anything, Snape wouldn't have anything to do with it. If you ask me, you should be grilling Seamus about his backswing. He'll kill one of us if he keeps doing that." Beside her, Harry sighed as he shook his head. "You are impossible sometimes. You know that, right?"

"It's because you're guys. Maybe it's around _that time for me_. Ever think of that?"

In their minds, Harry and Ron could hear tires coming to a loud, horrendous, screeching halt. They could only guess what Rose actually meant by that, but they definitely had a pretty good idea. And any which way they went, it all delved into the magical Women's World, where male presence was neither needed nor wanted. Ron seemed to telepathically send this thought to Harry with a twitch of his eyes. Rose meanwhile had succeeded in shaking the boys off her back. She took off in the direction of the stairs as soon as they entered the doors, leaving Harry and Ron to their squeaked-out shudders.

**~HP~**

When she got back to Gryffindor tower, Rose wasted no time before dashing up the steps to the girls' washroom, where the empty shower stalls waited to be used. Putting modesty and dignity aside, she stripped off her sweaty clothes and stood under the hot rush of water. She let the heat run down her body, relaxing the tense muscles of her back and shoulders. Reaching for the provided strawberry-kiwi scented shampoo, she scrubbed away the built-up sweat in her scalp. Rose took quite a lot of pleasure in having no one else around. She didn't exactly lie to Harry and Ron. It was that magical time of the month for her, giving her an excuse to be a little sulky. But she had gone to Madam Pomfrey for a potion that morning, before cramps could do her in. No, she had a whole different reason to be aloof.

Wrapped in red towels, Rose made her way up to her room. She was briefly stopped by Lavender, who asked if she wanted to help with her manicure for her next date with Justin. But the redhead just gave a weak smile and politely declined. She told her blonde friend that she wasn't feeling well, and that she should lie down for a while. She trusted that Lavender would pass that on if anyone should come looking for her.

The room was empty when she walked in, but Rose doubted it would be that way for long. Sure enough, she was wearing only knickers and a barely hooked bra when there was a knock on the door. Hermione walked in and smiled at her half-naked friend. "Hi Rose," she said.

"Hey Hermione," said Rose, rummaging through her half of the chest of drawers for some acceptable clothes.

"I managed to scrounge together a collection of tampons for up here. Now you won't have to beg anyone again if you need one before a match."

"If I even play a match,"

"The way Dean and Seamus mess around, I would be on my toes." Hermione sat down at their vanity. She tapped the surface, watching Rose dress herself. "Say Rose, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm having a period. I always feel better than I do at the moment." Rose pulled a soft knit shirt over her head and reached for a pair of jeans.

"Yeah, but I was out watching the practice, and I was a little worried about you. You seemed so distant."

"Oh no, not you too," Rose groaned, struggling to pull the denim up her slightly swollen thighs. "I already had to deal with the boys. And somehow, I doubt that you'll buy the time-of-the-month excuse."

"You're right, I won't," said Hermione. "What's going on, Rose? Tell me all about it."

Given her slightly weakened state, Rose didn't really have much fight in her. Buttoning her jeans, she frowned as she settled down on the side of her bed. She laced her fingers together and leaned in over her aching middle. "I had that dream about him again."

Hermione let her jaw drop down a bit as she nodded with a raised brow. Rose had recently been troubled by a recurring, disheartening dream where she saw her late beloved before her. "The same one?"

"The same one. Not one difference."

'_That's the fourth time since term started,' _Hermione thought to herself. "Are you okay?"

Rose sighed. "I guess. I don't wake up crying anymore, I guess that's an improvement."

That wasn't exactly the most comforting thing for Hermione to hear. Actually, it was borderline bollocks. The first time they had this quiet heart-to-heart some weeks ago, Rose ended up crying for almost half an hour. Rose didn't cry very often, at least not openly. But when she did, it was quite heart-wrenching to an outsider looking in. And he was one of those thoughts that almost always pushed her over the edge. "It's safe to assume that you haven't talked to anyone about this, isn't it?"

"I'm talking to you," said Rose. "I think that counts for something."

"Yes Rose, but I'm worried that I might not be enough. I want to help you, but you still walk around like a Fourth year that's just been dumped whenever you have that dream. You shouldn't have to live like that, getting all bent out of shape when you think about Da–,"

"Don't say his name!" Rose snapped, whipping her head in Hermione's direction. She rubbed her lower abdomen, as though that quick surge of emotion had kick-started her cramps again.

"See, you can't even use his name!" Hermione crossed the room to sit on her bed, directly across from Rose. "I understand avoiding thinking about him when you can, but that's just mad. You know that, don't you?"

"Well I think it works. It stops me from getting upset."

The Head Girl sighed. She knew that everyone had their own way of dealing with grief. But each time she saw Rose allow herself to crumble made Hermione believe more and more that her friend was going about it completely the wrong way. As clever as she was, she struggled to find the right thing to say. But what could you say to a grieving, heartbroken girl when you have already said everything you had to say?

"Rose, I understand what you're going through –,"

"No, you don't!" objected Rose. "You don't know what it's like to lose the man you love. You got Ron in the end. He lived to see You-know-who die, he'll be a hero for the rest of our lives. You didn't have to go through that pain. You didn't have to watch someone carry away his dead body."

"But if I had, I doubt I would be in much better shape than you. I still don't know what I would do if I lost Ron."

Rose looked down to the floor. The quiet sorrow in her expression eased into something along the lines of regret. She blew out a breath and glanced back up at Hermione. "You're right. Sorry about that."

"That's okay," said Hermione. "In any case, I know it's been really hard for you these last few months. But I've said it before. You cannot, _cannot _go on like this forever. You can't let one dream throw you off for a whole day. You can't pretend like he never existed, no matter how hard you try."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Rose asked quite sternly.

"In my opinion, I think you should go get some help. Help beyond us, I mean."

"You sound as though I should be locked away in St. Mungo's." Rose wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion or mockery, Hermione couldn't tell which. "I don't think you're quite there yet," she giggled. "But it probably would not hurt to go and talk to one of the teachers. I'm sure they could help you more than any of us could. Maybe you could bring it up the next time Professor Wicker invites you for tea."

"Hermione, I adore Wicker, but not that much."

"Alright, if you don't feel comfortable with her, I'm sure that Re – that Professor Lupin would be willing to listen."

"As if I don't know why." Rose stood and began to pace the room. "I read about his wife – what was her name again, Tonks? He lost her the exact same night. How do we know it's not too soon for him to talk about her? And to comfort a weepy student he barely knows at that."

"Well have you at least thought about doing that?" Hermione decided to ask up front.

Rose stopped her pacing in the middle of the floor, turning to face her friend. "If you really want to know, yes I have. Remember a few weeks ago, when you suggested that I talk to Snape? I actually did think about doing that for a split second."

"And what stopped you?"

"Honestly, Snape did. As strange as it sounds, I feel like a wall came down from between us. You don't know how cool that felt, to get to talk to him like that after all these years, after the things I said to him last month. I like what I had with him, and I didn't want to screw that up."

"You told me that he gave you a little advice before. Why would asking for more screw anything up?"

"Because knowing him, he would think I wanted to hear about Harry's mother. That whole mess isn't exactly undocumented, and he knows it. I'd just set him off, he'd shut me out again, and I'm back to mouthing off to him. I don't want to do that to him again. He's been through quite enough because of me. Besides, you said yourself that we have our futures to think about. I'll need his support if I end up having to go into Potions."

"I don't want to say that you're right, but you probably are," said Hermione with a reluctant frown. She almost dared to ask Rose what was said in the Potions classroom after hours, as she didn't usually go into great detail. All she could see was that Rose's stress levels seemed to visibly lessen recently. Very odd considering the amount of time she had been trapped with that unpleasant bloke. "Will you at least give it some more thought?"

Rose huffed at Hermione's complete inability to give up a thought. "I'll talk to someone else when I'm ready, okay?"

"Fine, that's all I ask for." Rose came closer and Hermione reached out to grab her wrist, tugging her onto the bed. Rose settled down next to her. "In the meantime, you should really be focusing on yourself."

"Huh?" said Rose, her voice dropping down to nearly a whisper.

"It's been six months. You have had more than enough time to mourn. It's time to move on and get your life back on track."

"I've done that. I'm back at school, and I've got a new crop of friends. I'm fine with what I have now."

"You're just hanging onto something that you know can never be," Hermione said with a certain headshake. "There are plenty of other guys out there."

"I don't want other guys. I want him." A mist finally began to form in Rose's eyes. "He was everything I could have ever wanted. He was looks, charm, and he had a heart underneath it all. Honestly Hermione, what are my chances of coming across that again? No, I can't just replace him like that. I don't think anyone could ever take his place."

"I never said you had to do that. You don't have to stop loving him if you don't want to. But you shouldn't have to sacrifice your happiness. Just take it slowly. Get out there and meet new people. You never know when someone special is right around the corner."

Rose blinked away the tears and her lips tugged into a little smile. "I guess if I should take anyone's word for it, it ought to be you, right?"

"Right," said Hermione, smiling back and rubbing Rose's forearm. "I didn't always think that Ron was the right person for me. I can't tell you how much I would love to go back to our first year and tell that to my younger self, just to see the look on my face. Love just happens, you can't control it. And when it does happen to you again, you shouldn't fight it." She stood up off the bed, gently coaxing Rose to do the same.

"I'm still skeptical, Hermione."

"Rightfully so, but that's no excuse for not living." Hermione playfully tugged Rose towards the door. "Now come on, let me dry your hair for you. Then I know what will cheer you up. What better for your monthly visitor than a few extra sweets before supper?"

**~HP~**

Severus paid little attention to the Yorkshire pudding in front of him at dinner. He paid even less attention to the conversations going on around him. To his right, Minerva and Albus were yammering on about how they might not be able to purchase a new set of student Astronomy telescopes for Sinistra's advanced classes with the school's more restricted budget. To his left, Remus was talking down the table to Cassandra Wicker, advising her of the proper way to dispose of the pixies that had somehow gotten out of his classroom and into hers. The Potions master was in no mood for idle chit-chat. The only thing he could really focus on was across the room, where Rose sat amongst her year-mates.

He had only seen her a few times that day, mostly as she passed him by in the halls. She always acknowledged him with a brief nod, but Severus could not help but notice her mood. She wasn't as lively as she usually was, slower and in a slight mope. Whenever he heard her speak, her voice was soft and it often slipped into a drone. Even now, hours later, she still hadn't returned to the delightful personality he admired so greatly. To him, it seemed that Rose was rather down on herself. He could only guess what it was that set her back so suddenly. But after what Rose had said in his office, showing him that she was not as confident as she made herself out to be, he wondered if another student had said something that bothered her in such a way.

Severus couldn't comprehend why she would feel like that. He had heard what Pansy and her cronies had said about her for the entirety of their time at Hogwarts. All of it, whether it be the childish teasing or the cruel insults, was unwarranted and unreasonable. Rose had already grown to be a far better woman than any of her contemporaries in Slytherin, and much better looking to boot. She had her flaws like anyone else, but the ones that his students made a mockery of were so miniscule that they could have been false. Rose had nothing to worry about when it came to her character. And yet she still let feeble jabs get to her and bottled it up until she couldn't hold it in anymore. It was better than lashing out at others, but Severus just did not like to see her unhappy. It really didn't suit her.

There had to be something he could do. Rose was such a special young lady; he was reminded of that every time he came in contact with her. Her compassion alone set her apart from the sea of faces around her. And her beauty was more striking than she would ever admit. There had to be some way to make her see that herself. Severus thought hard, a way to show his admiration for her without giving himself away. He wasn't necessarily aiming to get her attention in the way that he really wanted. At the end of the day, if she felt good about herself, if she felt cared for, if he could finally repay her for her kindness, then that was all he could ask for.

Over at the Gryffindor table, Rose raised her eyes and briefly made contact with his. Severus swiftly looked right, suppressing the internal flutters. He still felt her gaze however. Needing some kind of cover, Severus chose to spend the rest of the evening backing up Minerva on the slightly troubling budget issue.

**~HP~**

_**A short read for a holiday weekend. I wish a very happy mother's day to everyone, including my mom. Even though she's not reading this, she instilled in me the interest in culture that eventually lead to the written word. **_

_**Keep on reading, and keep on reviewing! Thank you!**_


	25. A witch's best friend

_**Late as ever, but at last I post a new chapter. This was hastily edited, and I take full responsibility for poor decisions. **_

_**Enjoy!**_

**__****__****__****__****__****__****____****Disclaimer:**_** The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.**_

**~HP~**

Taking Hermione's advice, Rose managed to recover some spirit as the weekend sailed by. It wasn't easy to put those emotions behind her for now, especially when that was combined with the hormonal roller coaster that almost every woman experiences. In hindsight though, it probably was the best thing for her. Her late friend was her first love, but she was only eighteen. If fate was on her side, there would be others. She just had her doubts, doubts that were as intimidating as scaling Mount Everest without so much as a Muggle pickaxe.

Monday dawned on a cloudy, dreary morning, and Rose found herself sitting alone at the sparsely populated Gryffindor table. She had woken up surprisingly early and instead of rolling over and waiting for the alarm to go off, she decided to just go down to breakfast on her own. Hermione would be down in a short while, and the others would not be far behind. In the meantime, Rose took small pleasure in marking up the shopping section of her brand new issue of _Witch Weekly_. The pages were soon covered with her little ink stars.

She kept finding her attention being drawn toward the head table. She eyed Snape as he read over his copy of the _Daily Prophet_, exchanging his coffee mug for a slice of buttered toast. What she didn't say to Hermione was that she wished her detentions had gone on for a few more days. She had been working for her dignity, but for some reason, they had brought a sense of calm to her. That tough weekend had made her realize that Snape's presence was something that she kind of missed. Whether he realized it or not, he had made her feel good on multiple occasions. He could also probably do it again. She wished that she still had access to the Potions master in that way, but she did promise to stay out of his hair. He really needed some time to himself, time to recover his health.

She was about to start reading an article about a witches' day-spa in the remote fenlands of Lincolnshire when she became keenly aware that someone else had walked up behind her. Stirring the cornflakes in front of her, Rose carefully looked over her shoulder, half-expecting to see one of her friends arriving for the day. Luna Lovegood stood with great posture, twiddling her laced fingers at her waist.

"Hello Rose Beckett. Lovely morning, isn't it?" she said in a tone a bit too wispy and lively for so early in the _gloomy_ morning. Rose was more than a little confused given that she and Luna had barely said ten sentences to each other in the last several years. Even when they did interact, it was usually because their groups of friends melded together. Rose thought that the Ravenclaw was loony when they first met, and she still thought the same now.

"Hello Luna," said Rose, cautiously. "Wha – what can I do for you?"

"I need to ask you some questions." Luna plopped down on the bench beside Rose and helped herself to a blueberry muffin.

"Questions? Me?" Rose had been fully prepared for a rambling about creatures that may or may not exist, so that caught her off guard. "Whatever about?"

"If you want to please a boy, what would be the best perfume to use?"

"Oh," Rose said as she raised her brow. That was just as unexpected. "Well um…it depends on what fragrances you like, what he likes. It's all to do with compromise, I guess."

"Oh alright," Luna curtly nodded. "So would you say that the same is true with makeup?"

Rose wrinkled a flaxen brow at Luna. "You and Neville aren't having problems, are you?"

"Oh no, not at all," said Luna. "It's just that something has been telling me to – you would say – spice things up a little."

"And so you come to me?" Rose flipped back to the shopping pages to look once again at the handsome green jacket she had admired for weeks. "Luna, if I know anything about Neville, it's that he likes his women just the way they are. From what I've heard, you've done fine on your own. And why me exactly? Why don't just go and talk to Hermione?"

"You seem to be more knowledgeable in that sort of stuff. You have a good idea about what boys like."

"In case it's missed you, I'm single. I don't know if I'm that trustworthy."

"Well, Hermione mentioned that you read a lot of women's magazines, that you couldn't go one week without reading one. That's pretty trustworthy to me."

"Luna, any girl could be an expert if they read enough _Witch Weekly. _I just happen to have gotten hooked."

"Is that so?" asked Luna, eying the open booklet in front of Rose's cereal bowl.

"Yeah, probably. Nothing is typical. It's just fun to try it out every now and then."

"Interesting," Luna pulled the magazine closer to see. "Any intriguing articles this week?"

"I wouldn't know because I just got it yesterday. Haven't had a chance to read it yet." Rose tugged a corner back towards her.

"I see you did go through the shopping pages," said Luna. "That's quite a lovely jacket you marked. It would really bring out your eyes, although twenty galleons does seem a bit pricey to me."

'_I know that, don't rub it in,' _Rose thought, resisting the urge to snarl. Of course, it would bring out her eyes. That's why she would consider spending more money than was probably needed.

Luna flipped back several pages, scanning over the dazzling images and words. More and more, she looked enchanted by the world of alleged trends, a world that she mostly chose to ignore. Being someone who didn't know Luna so well, Rose thought this was stranger than clippings out of the _Quibbler_. She also definitely knew that there could only be one thing behind this, and his name was Neville Longbottom.

"Do you think I could borrow this for a while?" asked Luna. But Rose was very hesitant. "I, uh…I'm not so sure about that."

"Please? I'll give it back at supper, I promise." Luna batted her eyes in a terrifically pathetic way that she probably wasn't aware of.

Rose didn't want to come across as nasty or selfish to her housemate's girlfriend. But it was _her magazine_. She let out a sigh as she looked down at the scribbled-on paper. It really was going to be a long, boring Monday. "Alright, I guess you could take it. But I want it back tonight, from either you or Neville."

"Yes, absolutely." The Ravenclaw rolled up the booklet and stuffed it into a robe pocket. "Thanks a lot." She took off, blonde locks floating behind her, over to the entrance to the hall, where Neville had just sleepily hobbled in.

Almost like she was stunned, Rose watched her for a second or two. She thought to herself that giving up her addiction might have been easier than trying to describe an anecdote to the chronically offbeat Luna. Scooping up a mouthful of cereal, she shifted her gaze back up to the head table to watch Snape with his eyes glued to his newspaper. She vaguely wondered if the slight tugging in her gut was some suppressed desire for those eyes to look up at her.

**~HP~**

It was not uncommon to find Luna with her nose in the folds of a magazine. But the fact that it was _Witch Weekly _she was reading caused more than a few double-takes. Throughout breakfast, she poured over the pages, one by one. Even Neville couldn't stop her from indulging in the articles on using potions in speed dating, which ingredients could double as makeup, and instructions for _Violet's Volumising Brew for limp hair. _The entire time, as she went back and forth between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables, Luna took great care to make sure that the paper didn't get torn and that nothing got spilt or smeared onto it. It was a kind thing of Rose to let her borrow her things, so she would want to see to it that it was returned to her in fine shape. Yet she couldn't get enough of it. The morning meal was not enough time to thoroughly read into such fascinating ideas. Luna's mind churned all morning, blurring timelines together and briefly making work seem less important. She was still reading when she arrived for her early Potions lesson.

Snape was giving them a lecture on the inner makings of love potions, which Luna didn't think she would get much out of. Everyone knew that there was such thing as a genuine _love _potion. All people her age wanted to know was what you could do with the ruddy stuff. Please, she had already gotten a fair few ideas from one issue of _Witch Weekly._

Speaking of which…

Using her place at the back of the room for cover, Luna carefully and quietly tugged the booklet out of her bag. She kept one ear open to Snape while her eyes gravitated to her lap. She turned back to the article about potions and beauty products. It was mostly common plants and herbs that could be ground up into a more natural makeup. It was rather simple considering it was what most women did before Muggles created those brightly colored powders. But she wondered what Neville would say if he knew she was wearing his precious herbs. A man like him would probably get a royal kick out of it. Already, she was trying to recall which of those herbs were readily available in the student stores to try out at first opportunity.

"And what do you think you are doing, Lovegood?"

Luna jumped in her seat, startled. She looked up to see Snape standing right beside her. He was staring down his long nose at her with slits for eyes. Luna giggled in a way in that there was no sense in hiding her guilt. "He-he…Professor, I –,"

"You are to tell me that you were not reading a magazine under your desk? If that is so, I would love to know what it is you _are_ doing."

"I…I was just –,"

"A likely story," Snape cut her off. "Tell me, Miss Lovegood. Am I boring you? Are my lessons useless to a witch such as yourself? Well, I can safely assure you that you will never find answers in the pages of _The_ _Quibbler_, and you certainly won't find any in _Witch Weekly._"

"Professor, I'm sorry –,"

"Evidently, not enough that you think to waste my time." Snape lashed out and grabbed the magazine from Luna's hands. He sneered at the frilly cover. "Truly pathetic, Lovegood, that you would prefer this rubbish over actual fact. Ten points from Ravenclaw. Now pay attention." He started to walk away, the magazine still in hand.

"But Professor, that's not mine," said Luna, only slightly raising her voice. She didn't sound panicked, just objective and matter-of-factly. Snape turned back to her, a distinct arch in his brow. "Oh really, then whose is it exactly?" It was more of a test than an actual question, to see if the loopy girl would have the gall to use someone else to get away from trouble.

"It's…it's…"

"Um-hmm, so I thought," Snape fingered the paper. "I suppose that will be five more points from –,"

"It's Rose Beckett's, sir. She let me borrow it," Luna explained, wry as ever. Snape's other dark eyebrow perked up at the name, still no detectable emotion in his face. "I promise not to read it anymore, sir. But she is expecting it later today, so I really need that back, if you please."

"Not a chance," said Snape, not missing a single beat. He walked around and behind his desk. "If that is truly the case, then I will see to it that Miss Beckett's belongings are returned to her. That however does not change my mind about your house points. Now turn to the appropriate text and keep your head in the real world for one minute."

Luna swallowed as she watched Snape place the magazine in a drawer and close it with a hard snap. She hoped that Snape meant what he said. It wasn't very likely, but a man could change his mind if he pleased. And even if he didn't, Neville always described Rose as a perfectly nice girl. She could understand what happened, although Luna had heard how Rose could be a holy terror at her worst. The nerves began to fester in her stomach. It would be a good six or seven hours before she found out the outcome of her little lapse in common sense, which was just enough time to conjure up a suitable fib just in case.

**~HP~**

"You know my boy, one of these days, I have to ask the House-elves where they get their meats from. I haven't enjoyed a turkey sandwich this much in years."

Severus rolled his eyes at the headmaster sitting across from him, though it wasn't as sinister as if it had been someone else of the Gryffindor variety. He soon turned his attention back to his own sandwich in his hand. For some reason, classes that morning seemed to double in length, and at the moment, no sight was more pleasing than the simple platter of turkey, ham, and cheese laid out on Dumbledore's desk. "Of all people who should know that, I believe it ought to be you."

"Believe me, I have enough on my plate. These budget issues are killing us, Severus! I know this is a tough time for a lot of people, but some of these cuts are just ridiculous! I really need to give Kingsley a good talking-to."

"I think it might take a little more than that if you want to have enough money for Cassandra to do what she wants with her class," said Severus, again rolling his eyes at the terribly annoying ideas the woman had been tossing around the staffroom as of late. Albus chuckled. "Now Severus, I think taking the older ones out to the theatre in London is a splendid idea. So much so, I would pay for it out of my own pocket if I had to."

"There are over twenty-five students in NEWT level classes alone. It's more money than it's worth." Severus sipped from the goblet of chilled tea that Albus had presented him with.

"I'm glad that you decided to accept my invitation to take lunch up here," said Albus. "I hardly have the time to sit and have a proper conversation with you."

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't like to spend _all _my time alone," said Severus. "I was never so lucky to have voices in my head to keep me occupied."

"I'm glad just to see you eating. I do hope that you have gotten your morning sickness under control, finally."

"It's a wonder what dry crackers and herbal teas can do. I don't want to test my luck, but I've felt better the last few days than I have in weeks."

"Oh Severus, you have no idea how good it is to hear that from you," Albus smiled, eyes twinkling as he reached for his own drink. "I don't think you know just how worried you had me. Bed-bound one day, fainting another, cancelling classes. My boy, I've seen you get the flu and still have the strength and obstinacy to continue teaching. Poppy and I were afraid that we would have been forced to take you off the job for a while."

Severus's brow cocked over the rim of his goblet. "Poppy failed to mention that one."

"Only because your condition has improved."

"Lovely to know that you have so little faith in my stamina," said Severus, shaking his head in his own sarcasm. "By the way, what else has the woman told you? Has she found anything on the spell that caused me to get pregnant?"

"I was actually going to ask you the same thing," said Albus. "All I've heard is that she's combing the library in her spare time, when she has spare time that is. She hasn't even started on the Restricted Section yet."

"The sooner she finds something, the better. If any of this is going to kill me, it would help to know about it ahead of time."

"Now Severus," Albus said, placing his now empty plate onto his desk. "I have complete confidence that both you and the baby will survive this ordeal. Poppy might have specialized with children, but she knows what she's doing. She would hex herself into next year before letting something terrible happen to you."

"I don't doubt that, but there was a time when women regularly risked their lives to have babies. And though I don't know much about those alleged cases of wizard pregnancies, I can easily assume that they didn't end well."

"That was then, this is now. Make no mistake, Poppy is preparing herself for any and every complication that might pop up. But in my opinion, it will be for nothing because nothing is going to happen." Severus offered Albus a half-ass smirk, pretending to be more interested in his sandwich. "While on the topic of your pregnancy, there are a few things I think we should discuss."

"Yes?"

"Since you have decided that you are carrying the child to term, have you thought about when you would possibly go on leave?"

Severus's mind went uncharacteristically blank. With all the effort that carrying and birthing a child required, time off was almost inevitable. But with his thoughts being taken up by his possible future with or without the child, not to mention his distracting draw to Rose, Severus's working conditions had been tossed to the side.

Albus continued. "Poppy believes that you will deliver in late April or early May, correct? I would think that you would like to begin your…your maternity leave a few weeks beforehand." He smiled apologetically for his choice of words, which had Severus forcing out a sigh. Well, what else could you call it?

"I don't want to give up my classes, Albus. If Poppy is correct, that would put my due date right before finals. I wouldn't want to go on _medical leave_ and leave the students at that time, especially my NEWT classes. It could potentially end up a disaster on the day of those exams."

"You plan on working right up until you give birth, don't you?" Albus raised a bushy, white eyebrow, as well as the corner of his mouth. Severus swallowed his last mouthful and rested his crumb-dusted plate on the headmaster's desk. "I do, unless of course you have some objection to that."

"I don't see too much trouble with that prospect, but I do hope that you consider a backup plan of sorts. Poppy sees it fit to remind me that you cannot be too careful in pregnancy. What would you do if you ended up having to go on bed rest? I'm sure that Horace would not mind coming back for a few weeks to see the children through their exams."

"I've heard that he's on a year-long holiday in the Virgin Islands," said Severus. He straightened his back against the back of his chair, folding his hands in his lap. "Look Albus, no one needs to tell me that being pregnant isn't easy. I know that I will have to make changes along the way, and I am prepared for that. But I would rather not think about those changes until it is necessary. Right now, I plan on teaching my classes as I ordinarily would until I have the baby, so that's how it will be."

"Very well my boy, but that still leaves medical leave for after you have the baby."

"Well, if I am to go through childbirth, I imagine I would require a week or two to heal from that. Then I would finish out the rest of the term."

Albus frowned to himself. Severus was obviously dancing around the subject of long-term leave, just as obviously because he had not yet made up his mind. However, the old wizard knew ahead of time that he was not going to press Severus for answers. Considering adoption was never an easy thing to do, no matter who it was that said different. Severus had endured quite a lot of turmoil over the course of his life. He had an unstable home growing up, not much guidance, and not nearly enough love. He had been led to get entangled with the worst of people. He carried the weight of innocent people's lives on his shoulders. Not many people could look into Severus's deep, obsidian eyes and see a scrap of any sort of feeling. But even there in his office over lunch, Albus didn't have to look twice to see the immense doubt. Poor Severus hardly knew what it took to be a good parent. Of course, he would be uncertain when faced with becoming one himself.

However, the lad had proven himself quite capable. Generation after generation of Slytherin students had passed through his dungeon halls, had been left in his hands. True, he encouraged house rivalries, and his grip on discipline for his own house was often quite loose. But that was as far as he let it go. If any of his students did anything truly terrible, he made damn sure they knew it. He actually discouraged the older ones from carrying on in their ruffian ways. Privately, he would talk to them about where they were heading in life, and he gave them advice with how to handle their own affairs. They looked to him for support, and most of the time, they got it. And as a result, only a bare few of them ended up turning to Lord Voldemort and the comforts he promised for their allegiance.

The elderly headmaster smoothed out his beard, pulling a candy dish closer to the edge of his desk with nothing more than a silent charm. He reached for one of the Muggle chocolate drops resting in it, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. He let the little morsel melt on his tongue. "I suppose we'll see what happens from there, dear boy."

"At this point, that is all I ask for," said Severus, eying the silver dish.

"Once you have cleared your head, it will get easier to make those sorts of decisions. Although, I do hope you are still thinking about keeping the child."

"You say that like it's the easiest thing in the world," Severus sighed. "The positives are still vastly outnumbered on that matter."

"Do you want to know what I think about that?" asked Albus. Severus humored him with a nod of his head. "I think you are seriously underestimating yourself. I understand, your father was not exactly Father-of-the-year material. But you know, you don't need anyone to tell you how to be a good father. You may find that it will just come to you."

"You realize you say that to the one professor that the students say should never be allowed to procreate."

"Oh, it's not that many of them," Dumbledore laughed. "Also, don't think that I haven't noticed how many of the Slytherins turned out fairly decent for what their reputation dictates. You don't know how to handle children?"

"I did not want to see any of them turn out the way I did."

"Which shows how much you care about them," said Albus. It was something he often suspected, but never said. "You have helped to raise some fine young people in the last several years. If that is what you can do with someone else's children, imagine what it could be with your own."

"Given the circumstances, I don't know if I can."

'_He'll come around,' _Albus quietly thought to himself. _'He can bring up this baby and do it well if I do say so myself. He will realize that for himself or my name isn't Albus Dumbledore.' _

Much to Dumbledore's surprise, Severus took hold of a bit of chocolate and carefully peeled off the foil wrappings. He placed it in his mouth and chewed methodically. "Why Severus, I always assumed that you didn't care much for chocolate."

The younger wizard swallowed and reached for another piece. "Not as much as others around here. If you must know, I have been having an odd craving for it since Rose Beckett shoved hers down my throat. I've already confiscated a few unopened bars from some First years. A bit funny really. I haven't enjoyed the retched stuff this much since I was a boy."

"Then treat yourself, my dear boy. Now that you are able to keep your food down, you should take advantage of that. Cravings will happen, so why not satisfy them?"

"I suppose you could be right," said Severus. "I just hope that this is as far as it goes. Pomona has already tried to tell me about how I may find myself combining pickles with an odd assortment of condiments."

Albus chuckled heartily. "Honestly, I will look the other way if you do. The only thing that could alarm me would be if I heard anything about you wondering what chalk tastes like." Severus let out a short laugh before coming to his senses. He rolled his eyes, biting into the piece of chocolate in his hand. For a Muggle variety, it was actually rather tasty.

"This also doesn't give you permission to fill my robe pockets with sweets," he said, putting the headmaster in his place before the thought could pass through his aging mind.

**~HP~**

"So I heard that Blaise Zabini is prowling around for a new nighttime plaything," said Lavender, repeatedly sipping her pumpkin juice. Around her, the Gryffindor Seventh years were tucking into their evening meals like she was chatting about something as mundane as the weather. "I knew he couldn't go one term, _one term_ and keep it in his trousers."

"Frankly, I'm surprised he managed a week without turning blue." Parvati uncharacteristically sneered, shoveling roast potatoes onto her plate. Dean sat next to her, trying to muffle his laughter with a mouthful of food. The two girls had always maintained that Zabini would sleep with anything with a pulse, and there wasn't a single Seventh year, male or female, who would think to disagree.

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Aye, it's only a matter of time before he comes sniffing around our turf. He went through three girls in fifth year alone."

"Lock up your women!" Ron laughed, wrapping an arm around Hermione's neck and pulling her into his torso. The other men chuckled along with him, and Dean shifted a little closer to Parvati as he did so. Hermione scoffed at such a barbaric idea, hinting to Harry that the women could handle themselves just fine.

Rose meanwhile was tearing herself between backing Hermione up and staring up the hall, letting go of several, very long sighs. She never thought she would see a longer day than the time when she sat for her O.W.L.s. Mondays dragged on as they were, but it was frankly ridiculous without her precious _Witch Weekly. _And those yippy Sixth year girls she heard talking about the issue in the loo, that was just annoying. Her impatience was pushed down more as each class crawled by at a drunken snail's pace. The most exciting thing that had happened to her was earning ten bronze knuts for chocolate frog cards of Merlin and Morgan le Fey, both at the expense of a rather desperate young Slytherin. Maybe Hermione was right after all. She couldn't go one week without her fix. Suppertime helped to ease her delicate sense of irritation. At least now Rose had the company of people she liked to turn to for distraction. And occasional gossip about other people's sex lives certainly didn't hurt either.

She again was letting her gaze wander to Snape's seat. She still felt that puzzling pull to him, catching her eye whenever their paths crossed. His class had actually been the only reasonable one that day, so rare for the start of the week. Totally immersed in the lesson, Rose was more interested in what Snape had to offer than in her missing periodical. Her lips tugged into a smirk, thinking of that surge of pride those four correct answers produced. Actually, only she, Hermione, and Malfoy had been allowed to talk that day. And twice, Hermione was passed over in her favor.

The Potions professor finished off his last bite and rose from his seat. Guessing that he was leaving, Rose shook herself back into reality and dismissed her silly wandering thoughts. She tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Lavender tell Parvati about a way to shake off unwanted men that she had read about in _Witch Weekly, _in case she found herself the target of Zabini's overactive libido. The urge to snarl returned along with the reminder of Rose's still missing magazine. She looked to Neville, who was a few inches to her left, listening in on the nonsense.

"Say Neville, did Luna ever give you my copy of _Witch Weekly_? I haven't seen her since this morning, and I'm still waiting for it."

Neville shook his head, making an odd face. "I haven't seen it since breakfast. Luna told me before lunch that she would bring it to you…oh wait. Here she comes." Rose turned around as Luna came floating up the aisle toward her. Cracking an anxious smile, Rose pulled her legs out from under the table and swung around the other side of the bench.

"Hey Luna," she said, speaking as though they had been bosom buddies for their entire lives. "So did my magazine help you out at all?"

"Yes, actually," said Luna, a certain snag catching her tone of voice. "There were some very interesting suggestions in those articles. I almost wonder how I didn't think of them myself." She shifted her gaze to Neville with a cute little smile, a subtle gesture that caused him to flush a light pink. Rose offered him a playful smirk. As odd and slightly mismatched as they were, those two were quite cute together.

"So where is it?"

Luna snapped her eyes back and her face also seemed to take on a healthier shade. "Eh – what?"

"My magazine, I still haven't gotten it back. Where have you got it?" Rose looked up at Luna's face, waiting for the booklet to appear from inside her sleeve. That was when she noticed the shrinking expression around her little mouth, the twitchy shift in her gray eyes. She looked like a guilty child being confronted by their parent.

"I –um – Rose, about your magazine…"

"What about it?" asked Rose, her tone hardening with each word. Luna tried to force a slight giggle. "Well…eh, it's a bit of a funny story really –,"

"I'll be the judge of that. Luna, what happened?"

Luna swallowed, as subtly as she could manage. She briefly looked to Neville, who nodded her on. "Rose, I'm really, really sorry. But I…I lost it. I left my bag open, and it must have slipped out somewhere in the halls. I retraced my steps, but anyone could have picked it up by now."

There it was! It was exactly what Rose feared would happen if she let go of her things; lost or destroyed! She had been subjected to inescapable boredom all day long. She had been looking forward all day to immerse herself into those pages, to tune out the world for just an hour. Now Luna's carelessness would cost her that scrap of delight! And on top of that, her insolent scribbles were now out there for the whole world to see. Deep in her gut, Rose felt anger mixing with her just-eaten meal to create an uncomfortable burn. The color drained from her cheeks, rendering her pale complexion severe. And thankfully, any immediate words that came to her were caught in her throat.

"I hope you understand," Luna continued. "And again, I'm very sorry."

"You…you lost my magazine?" asked Rose, a very firm hold on her voice. The tension in her stomach was slowly working its way up to her head. It was like some animal was trying to claw its way out of her. No, she could not lose her mind over something so stupid! Nobody would be able to let her live it down, nobody!

Luna seemed to pick up on the Gryffindor's agitation. Behind her back, her hands were tying themselves together. But she didn't so much as shuffle her feet an inch or two back. "It was an honest mistake. I lost some class assignments of mine the same way. I should have been more careful, especially as I was carrying someone else's things."

Now Rose was struggling to not snarl at Luna. Her tense knuckles tightened around her knee, and her breast forced out hot breath. Hermione, who had been sitting to Rose's right and listening through one ear, turned her head to her heated housemate. "Rose, are you okay?" It was a stupid question, but one that would hopefully diffuse something in Rose's head.

"Oh just fine, Hermione," Rose chewed out, still glaring up at Luna.

"I'll make it up to you," Luna offered. "I'll buy you another copy when we go into Hogsmeade –,"

"On Saturday!" snapped Rose, cutting her off. "The new editions come out on Sunday. There's no point."

"Take it easy, Rose," Hermione urged as she shifted her body to better face her roommate. "It's not that big of a thing."

"You say that because it's not your things." Rose said with a low-lying growl. She could sense that she had just minutes left on her fuse before she started spewing words. It quickly dawned on her that if she didn't do something fast, she would totally lose it in front of hundreds of people, including a certain Transfigurations professor who would not hesitate to scold her into the stone over her many-times-lectured temper. Really, the last thing she needed was to cement the reputation that Pansy Parkinson had helped to create for her. She reached back to push herself up off the edge of the table.

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione and Neville at almost the same moment. The formally awkward Longbottom gripped the table, as though to launch himself up to Luna's side.

"I need to get some air. I don't know if I'll be back." Rose wasn't in very much mood for explaining herself. She got a better hold on her self-control long enough to straighten the hem of her skirt. She then set off for the Great hall's massive doors, the clacking of her heels only the slightest bit louder. Just as her shoulder brushed past Luna's, she managed to get out one little lie. "No hard feelings."

Luna watched Rose as she walked down the long length of stone and left the hall. Once she was sure that the red-haired Seventh year was gone, she turned her attention back down to the table. "Well, that wasn't so bad," she said, almost sighing her relief.

"Luna, it was an accident," said Hermione, her tone caught somewhere between relaxed and stern. "Rose will understand. Just give her a chance to cool down, she'll come around."

"I told you, Sweetness, she's not that bad." Neville smiled as he reached for Luna's hand. He gently coaxed her down onto the bench and laid a kiss on her forehead. "I don't know who told you that she has daily conniptions, but they are way off target."

**~HP~**

Just outside the Great hall by the staffroom door, Rose was doing her best to prevent exactly that. She had pressed herself up against the wall, facing the ancient stone. She rested her forehead against the rough surface, breathing away the hard tension through gritted teeth. On either side of her head, white fist rapped away to the tune of her frustration. At the moment, Rose could not give a fuck if someone happened to walk by and think that she had finally snapped. She just had to pretend that she was in some deep dark void…_all alone. _There was no one to bother her, no one to ruin her plans, and certainly no one to "lose" her _Witch Weekly. _It was far better to punch the wall than to attack innocent little Luna.

She had retreated so deeply into herself that she didn't hear the sharp click of a door handle, or the tapping of a boot. "Miss Beckett, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Rose did not jump at Snape's deep voice, though it did yank her out of La-La-land and back into reality-land. In an attempt at a passable impression of an owl, she twisted her head around to half-face the Potions master. He was leaning against the staffroom's archway, his back resting on the closed door. He had his hands in his robe pockets, and a relaxed cock in his brow. If he was trying to be threatening, it sure wasn't working. She had to strain her voice to say, "Nothing, Professor."

"You know, the last time I saw someone beating against the wall like that, they were completely barking." Snape folded his arms across his chest. "And the last time I saw your face that red, I was pulling you out of a scrap. I'm almost obligated to ask if anything is wrong."

"It's nothing, sir," said Rose, releasing her tension enough so that her face could blanch again. She turned her body completely to Snape.

"Really? Seems to me like you are angry," Snape said with sarcastic undertones. "And having quite a fit, by the looks of it."

"Believe me Professor, you've seen a fit, and this is not it." Surrendering to her bad mood, Rose leaned back against the wall.

"Alright Miss Beckett, what happened?"

Hesitation was an understatement compared to what shot through Rose's mind. Knowing Snape as well as she did, she felt that telling him her predicament would provide him with more entertainment than watching Harry on the wrong end of a Leg-locker Curse. "Nothing…"

Snape shook his head. "Come Miss Beckett, I know that you can't hold your tongue forever. Just spill it and get it over with." Rose looked away with a strong sigh. What use was there in lying to a man who was known to be a Legilimens? And why was it that she forgot that little fact? Even so, this man had already heard things from her that most people ordinarily would not. It was hardly a confession to blow off a little steam that just wouldn't let up.

"Let's say that I had some arrangements that due to incidents beyond my control have gone awry."

"I'm assuming that these _arrangements _were not that important. Am I right?" Rose slowly nodded her head, and Snape snickered under his breath. "And I thought you promised to control your temper."

"I am controlling my temper!" Rose barked. Snape raised his brow at her. "By leaving the room?"

"Eh…yes, I suppose so."

Now Snape was muffling his laughter. "Stubbornness, both irritating and amusing! Miss Beckett, for your sake and everyone else's, do calm yourself. I doubt that your mother would appreciate another letter from Professor McGonagall about your violent disposition."

Damn, she hadn't even thought of that one! Oh yes, Rose thought, that would go over really well with Mummy-dearest. "No need to remind me of that, sir."

"Yes, think of what she would say, how unbecoming it would be of an English lady."

"But you know how hard it is to stop yourself once you're in that mindset," Rose said, stretching an open hand out to the Potions master.

"That I do," said Snape. The harshness of his features seemed to relax away. "But I can also entertain how pointless it is to let little things set you off."

"Really Professor? Wasn't it a month ago that you deducted house points from people who sneezed in class?"

Snape shifted his black eyes away for a moment, almost as though he had forgotten that little incident. He shook his head, more to himself. "Alright, so I might not be the best example. I could say that I can't control it any more than you can, but at this point, it might be because I don't know any better. Let me put it to you this way. Do you want to end up like me?"

That was a trick question, though whether Snape intended that or if Rose just came to the conclusion herself was anyone's guess. End up like Snape? A well-known, widely respected potioneer, yes. A snarling nutter with a famously bad temperament, no. She assumed, of course, that he was referring to the latter, and she shook her head with a little smirk.

"I didn't think so," Snape continued. "You're a clever girl; I like to think that you know better. Anger doesn't really suit you anyway. It's quite an ugly emotion. It's not much of a surprise that you can't get a date." Rose listened to Snape's voice, ignoring the sneer and taking in what Snape was trying to say. With each second that passed, she felt the tension in her head and torso drain. For a brief moment, she was back in the Potions classroom. She thought being alone was the answer to her frustration, and all it took to bring her down was a little chat with the "greasy bastard."

The subtle smile she offered could not have been more genuine.

Snape stepped out of the doorway and walked in the direction of the stairs. "Go back to your simpleton friends, Miss Beckett," he said. "And do control yourself. Whatever it is that's got your knickers in a knot, it will pass and you can all get back to wasting your days with nonsense."

'_Oh yeah, I'll bet you did the exact same thing when you were my age.' _Rose thought to herself as she watched the Potions master vanish down a flight of stairs. She could not help herself when she released a much shorter sigh, raising her blue eyes to the high ceiling with a smile. She couldn't have felt more like one of Snape's favored Slytherins if she tried.

She was about to reenter the Great hall, calm and collected when she suddenly came face to face with Neville. "Oh Rose," he said, as surprised as she was. "You came back. I was just going to go look for you."

"What for?" asked Rose.

"I wanted to make up for what happened with Luna. I felt bad when Hermione told me how much you were looking forward to reading that magazine. Well, I have a few pieces of bronze to spare, and this morning's _Prophet _has an ad with _Witch Weekly_'saddress. If you want, I will personally write in for a rush order on a new copy. It will be here by Wednesday."

Rose blushed, the word "_aww"_ just on the tip of her tongue. She could have thought to do that herself, and yet someone was willing to do it for her, even if it was to cover his girlfriend's tracks. She smiled again as she patted Neville's shoulder. "I'll give Luna one thing. She knows a good guy when she sees one."

**~HP~**

_**I thank every one for continuing to read, and I look forward to the reviews.**_


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